Frozen
by magicalwolfgirl
Summary: Rachel has spent a lot of time watching the wolves in the forest behind her backyard. Well one wolf in particular, the hazel eyed wolf who watches back. Quinn lives two lives, one as a wolf and one as a human. She spends much of her wolf life looking at the brown eyed beauty inside of the house. Their love has been at a distance since it began, but can they close the distance?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: For some reason, I felt like writing again. Here's another Faberry story. I totally was going to do a Pezberry but this seemed more fitting. Anyway this is based on the Shiver-Linger-Forever series by Maggie Stiefvater. I know it's currently a lot like the book but I plan to reread the book and series tonight or tomorrow so I will start putting my own spin on it soon. As for disclaimers, I don't own Glee nor Maggie Stiefvater's work, also I have no beta and was writing this kind of in a rush and I have no beta, so if there are any mistakes I apologize for them. I know I also have Inner Passions, but I will try to keep up with both. Enjoy. **

**~magicalwolfgirl**

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Chapter 1

Rachel

I remember laying in the snow, wolves all around me. I had been lonely, dads were out at work as usual. One of my dads, Leroy was a doctor, some fancy surgeon or something at the Lima Hospital and the other was an artist. They often left me to my own devices and so I was often alone. I had no friends, Lima was pretty unforgiving due to my having gay dads and I was basically the social pariah at Starview Ohio Public School, getting slushied at least once a day, usually more. I told myself it was alright, there would be one day where I would be on Broadway where I belonged and I would be the shining gold star that I was meant to be.

I was outside, lost in my thoughts and the winter wonderland around me and I was thinking about Broadway and life outside of Lima when the wolves began tearing into me, how I would never manage to achieve my dream, the eventuality, and the inevitability of becoming a star. The wolves were tearing into me, biting me, worrying at my small body and I felt colder and colder despite the warmth from the wolves around me and the sun that was shining. There was ice on the ruffs of their fur and the musky scent of wet dog and forest surrounded us.

I closed my eyes and envisioned the Broadway scene, I wished I could scream but I just didn't, I just let it happen, I let the wolves feast on me. One wolf prodded my hand, nuzzled against my face, it startled me and I turned my head to look into its eyes. They were a swirling hazel, green and gold and speckled. Her coat was dark, as dark as my hair, nearly black but not, a dark brown with lighter brown and blond strands in her tail and in her ruff. I tried to reach out to touch its face but I couldn't, my arms were frozen to my chest. I just continued to stare and it just continued to look into my eyes. I couldn't remember what it felt to be warm and suddenly my hazel-eyed wolf was gone, the other wolves just bunched together and took her spot. I felt fear and pain and dry swallowed, all I could think about was how my wolf was gone and I would probably never see those hazel eyes again.

But I didn't die and I remember those hazel eyes and I felt warmth again.

Quinn

She was small, smaller than kids her age which I guessed to be about 10, she had long dark brown hair with bangs that were slightly long and in her chocolate brown doe eyes.

They had snatched her from a swing in a backyard, dragged her from her world into mine. I didn't stop them.

It had been the longest, coldest winter in my life. The food was scarce, the pack went hungry more days than I can count. The hunger was insatiable, we had often had to dig in trash because nothing moved and no food could be found. Until they found the girl, until they attacked the girl. They crouched around her, snarling, snapping and growling, fighting to kill her first. I saw it, they were shuddering with joy, with anticipation at having full bellies. I saw bloody muzzles, they were dragging her this way and that way. And still I didn't stop them. I was high up in the pack, being a Fabray had ensured that.

My parents, Russell Fabray and Judy Fabray were the Alpha and Beta of the pack so as their child, I could have gotten food right away but I hung back, I surveyed the pack. The girl, looked my way, her brown doe eyes were not round and wide from fear, I looked into her eyes and all I could see was peace and understanding. It tore me apart, her blood smelled human and it confused me. If she was alive, why didn't she fight?

I heard Jacob Ben Israel, the mutt of the park growl and he trembled as he tore at her clothes. I yearned to forget that she was human, I just wanted to feel my belly full but I could not move towards her. I couldn't get her eyes out of my head. At last, snarling and gnashing my teeth, I move forward and Jacob snarls at me. I glare at him with my HBIC glare and he yelps and jumps back, letting me through. I stand beside her and nudge at her hand and her face, memorizing her shape and smell.

She is looking up, maybe she is dead, I shove my nose into her hand and I inhale, smelling her unique scent of strawberries that remind me of a time that seemed so long ago. She turns to face me and I see her eyes on me again. She is alive and awake and I begin to shake. Not with anger or fear but it was her eyes on my eyes, her blood on my face and I feel myself tearing from the inside out. My pack fell back from me, I was no longer what they were and so they growled and snarled.

I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny bloody angel lying in the snow and my pack was going to destroy her.

I stopped them.

ME.

* * *

Rachel

I saw my wolf again after that. Always in my backyard, always when it was cold, during the winter. She stood, hazel eyes looking into mine. Her fur rustled in the wind, she always stood in the same spot, just close enough so that I could see her but still inside the first ring of trees of the forest. She would track me with her eyes, when I went outside to take out the garbage, when I filled the bird feeders and when I went to swing on the tire swing that so long ago wolves took me from. I often swung on that swing until I could feel her eyes on me and other times, I would try to approach her from the deck, hands up and showing my empty hands but she would just shrink away and run off.

I never feared her, she was my wolf and I waited for her to know that. I guess I could have been afraid, I mean she was large enough to cause damage and drag me into the woods and I would never be seen ago. But there was no ferocity in her eyes, I remembered her gaze, the yellows, golds and green that made up her brilliant hazel eyes. I knew she wouldn't hurt me and I waited for her to know that I wouldn't hurt me. I am not known to be a patient person so I tried a lot of things to show her how much I wanted her to know that. I left food out for her, I tried to approach her and I often sang to her. Music was a part of me so I sang to show my emotions. People at school always made fun of me for that, but then they hear my voice and sometimes they understand why I am the way I am. That doesn't stop the slushying though.

She waited for me too but at the time, I didn't know that. After all, I didn't think she was anything other than a wolf. It always just felt like me reaching out. Me singing to her, me talking to her, me leaving food for her. At least she was always there for me, not like my dads who were always working or like my nonexistent friends. With her, I felt safe, I felt wanted, even if it was one-sided. She was never any closer nor did she leave.

And so the cycle continued, until I was in high school at William McKinley, until I was 15. The wolves were there in the winter and absent in the summer, I thought nothing of the timing even though, I considered myself pretty smart and observant. I thought they were all just a normal pack of wolves, nothing special.

Quinn

The day I nearly talked to her was the hottest day ever. Even in the bookstore where I worked, which was air conditioned, the heat entered and emanated. I had always been a nerd, a bookworm, I enjoyed the classics and I owned way too many books considering my situation…

Behind the counter, I slouched, working on my latest sketch. I was drawing a winter scene, there was the girl of my dreams, swinging on a tire swing. I stopped drawing for a second, dusting off the piece of paper, holding it at an arm's length, trying to make sure it was drawn to proportion.

The door opened with a ding, warm air rushing in when I caught the scent. The scent of the girl of my dreams, the girl that I had watched so much, the girl that I am drawing. It was her, I had never forgotten her scent, strawberries, and I could not have mistaken it either. Her long chestnut brown hair had changed little since I had last seen her. She was dressed in the shortest skirt known to man which made her legs go on for miles despite her short stature. She wore a black tank top to match the red and black plaid skirt and a red headband to push her bangs from her eyes. Her small yet perfectly sized feet wore a pair of red flats. She walk straight to the musical books and the selection of sheet music that we have. She runs her finger over the spines of the book and I can see some of myself in that expression.

I had thought of many variations of our first meeting and not one of them came out to be like this and now that it had come, I didn't know what to do. It was so different from seeing her in her backyard, scribbling in a notebook or doing homework or even singing. There the distance between us was so insurmountable and the reasons to stay away were so obvious but now, she was just so close in a way like never before. I could so easily go talk to her. I checked my appearance in the mirror beside me and my hazel eyes stared back. I took in my artistic beret, my blond hair that fell to past my shoulders, my tall and slim frame from the cheerleading squad that I used to be on before all of this started happening. I was dressed in a simple yellow polo that had the name of the bookstore emblazoned on the chest and with black shorts that went to my mid-thigh. I paired this with my favourite black flats.

I turned back to face the store when I felt her gaze turning in my direction.I dropped my gaze to the floor, she may not recognize my face but she would definitely recognize my eyes. I had to believe that she would recognize my eyes.

I prayed for her to leave so that I could breathe again, I prayed for her to buy something so that I could talk to her. I didn't know what I wanted.

I watched her peruse the musicals and I watched the sun shining through the windows, catching the hairs on her head, causing them to turn into a shimmering brown strand. Her head moved back and forth to the music that was playing in the store. In my head, I tried to tell her to turn around, to look up and just to lock eyes with me but nothing happened.

Suddenly, a person in front of me. "I'll take this one", he says pushing a book in front of me. I ring it through as fast as possible, wanting to keep watching the girl, packing it into a bag and taking the money, handing him the change and the receipt. He leaves the store and when I look up, she is gone. I guess she had left when I was ringing that guy up.

I was disappointed with myself. I would never be disappointed with her, in my eyes, it was only me.

Rachel

I had never entertained the idea that the wolves in the woods were nothing but wolves until Finn Hudson was killed. September of my sophomore year was when it happened. He was the quarterback at William McKinley high school. He was popular to my unpopular, the male lead to my female lead in Glee. He was the first popular kid who had paid any attention to me. He didn't stop the slushies but he talked to me. He was my second friend, yes, I counted my wolf as my first even if she was a wolf and not a human. Finn was not the best football player, nor was he the best singer. Don't even let me get started on his dancing. He literally had two left feet and it took so much effort not to scream or yell at him when he stepped on my feet as we sung together. I get that we have voices that went well together or whatnot but Mr. Shue seemed to be way too interested in Finn even if his vocals were only alright and his dancing was total crap.

Now everyone was terrified of the wolves. Because Leroy was never home and chronically at the hospital and Hiram never watched the news, the anxiety took longer to reach our house. My own wolf attack had long been forgotten, Leroy often saw accidents far worse than mine and Hiram buried it with his art, forgetting with the chemical smell of paint and the blank canvas in front of him, however, Finn's attack seemed to refresh it for him. He didn't use this anxiety to care more for me, but used it instead to become more scatterbrained and annoying than usual.

"Do you need help with dinner, Dad?" I ask and he turns to the mushrooms that he had been chopping to oblivion on the cutting board. He nods sheepishly and I leave my homework on the island and I take his place, cooking dinner.

He speaks over the sound of the news in the background from the TV, "Did you know that he was found not far from here? I can't believe it, it was just in the woods behind Breadsticks. That's where he was killed." "Or died," I interject. "What?" He looks at me, slightly frazzled. "He could have passed out at the edge of the woods while he was on a run or something. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, you know? It's not the same, don't make something big out of something that could be small." Hiram returned his attention to the TV and said "They attacked him, Rachel." I glanced out the windows, to where my wolf usually stands but I don't see her. "Wolves are peaceful creatures, Daddy, remember? You used to always say that."

Sometimes, I think that Hiram can only manage to stay in this house because he always tells himself that. That my attack was once in a lifetime and that wolves were harmless. I don't know if he really believed it but I did. I watched the wolf pack for a long time, most of my life, memorizing their faces, their eyes, their personalities. This was my only obsession besides my obsession with Broadway, of course.

There was the lean, curly haired wolf. He had so much hair that he looked like a cloud, he was sickly with a notched ear, a pus filled eye and scars that sometimes oozed blood along his flank and I shuddered, remembering when his teeth had torn into me. I could envision him attacking another human.

There was a dark brown wolf with dark brown eyes, she had a sort of terrifying beauty. I had read that wolves mated for life and she was with a blond wolf. The blond wolf had piercing blue eyes and she seemed to calm the dark brown wolf. When the blond wolf was not there, I might think that the dark brown wolf could also attack humans.

The alpha or at least that's what I believed him to be looked similar to my wolf but he had a pure black coat and darker eyes while his beta had green eyes and a light brown coat, I didn't think the rest of the wolves would attack humans. They were just ghosts in the forest.

I looked at the time, another hour or so before Leroy finishes his shift, and my dad finally tore himself away from the TV. "I'm going to go upstairs to paint," he says, rolling up his sleeves. "Okay," I answer. I had a lot of time to finish cooking dinner and hopefully catch a glimpse of my wolf. I opened the fridge and found some meat that I didn't want to eat, being vegan but I guessed that my dad had set aside to eat for dinner. I cut it up and marinated it, setting some aside before I added the marinate for my wolf. In the background, I heard the sound of the news bringing in some expert who was talking about whether or not the wolves should be moved.

The phone rang, it was Tina. She was in the glee club with me and she was probably my third friend. "Hello?" "Hi," she said, "what are you doing?" "Just cooking dinner and watching the news." She knows exactly what I am talking about, "It's kinda annoying, eh? Like we have to hear about it at school and now all the time as well. And it must be so bad for you, like it's gotta be bothering you – and Finn's mom must be so annoyed with them right now. Has Kurt called yet?"

Kurt was the third of our trio and my fourth friend. He is the only openly gay kid at McKinley at the moment. Tina and Kurt know about my sexuality, that I would rather fall in love with the person and their personality than their gender.

"Nope," he's probably busy looking through fashion magazines and stuff." Kurt was nearly as obsessed as I was with Broadway and he was also obsessed with fashion. "That sounds like something he would do," Tina says, "okay then, I'll just tell you and I'll tell him later. We should go somewhere for winter break. Anywhere but Lima, Ohio. My parents gave me money. Will you come to help me pick a place after school tomorrow?" "Yeah, sure." "If it's somewhere good, you and Kurt could come with?" I try to think of ways to decline, after all, the winter is the only time I can see my wolf. Tina interrupts, "You're doing that thing, aren't you?" "I'm not!" "You are! You didn't say yes." "I didn't say no either," I point out. "But you didn't say omygosh yes either. At least come tomorrow, kay?" "Kay," I say chipperly. "Yeah yeah," she shoots back, "bring those awesome vegan cookies, kay." I grunt an affirmative and we say goodbye before hanging up the phone.

I look outside and I see my wolf. I hurriedly put the mushrooms and other vegetables in two pots and stick the meat in one and set them both on simmer so that I didn't need to care for them. I grab my coat and rush to get outside with the meat that I had saved. I looked at the woods. I hear it calling to me, this was the only place I belonged. Well the only place other than Broadway of course. I shake my head clear of these thoughts which have been on my mind more lately. I didn't wear my hat because I knew that my wolf didn't always recognize me when I had it on. I walked slowly, trying to not skip in happiness or scare off my wolf. I see her walk slightly out of the tree line and I see her nose twitching, no doubt smelling the meat in my hand.

There was blood on her chin, it looked to be day old. I didn't think it belonged to her. I whisper, "Did you kill him? Did you kill Finn?" She didn't run like I thought she would, she is gazing into my eyes instead of the meat in my hand like I thought she would. "It's all the news is talking about," I say as if she would understand what I am saying, "they say the wolves are savages, did you do it?"

She stared at me for a moment longer when she did something incredibly human. Her wolf instinct should have instructed her to do otherwise but she closed her eyes and lowered her ears and tail. I could feel the grief emanating from her. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen.

I moved slowly towards her, afraid of scaring her away. Her ears flicked forward, acknowledging my presence and what I was doing but she didn't move. I crouched in the snow, dropping the meat, she flinched when it landed and I was so close, closer than I had ever been, close enough to smell the forest in her coat of fur. Then I did what I always wanted to do. I buried my hands in the ruff of her neck. She let out a moan and leaned into my hands and in that moment, I felt like I was in heaven. It felt like I was holding a regular dog but the scent of the wild would never let me feel that. Her fur was not as soft as I expected, there was a coarse upper later and a soft dense inner layer.

For a moment, I forgot about Broadway, I forgot where I was, I forget everything and I was simply in the moment.

When suddenly, I see movement, it's a new wolf, tan with brown eyes on the edge of the woods. He is staring at us and I feel a rumble from my wolf. I start back and that is when I noticed that my wolf is growling, to protect me. He walks boldly closer and my wolf snaps her teeth and growls again. He just stares, doesn't growl but every moment denotes hatred. Still rumbling, my wolf rams herself against me, pushing me back towards my house, towards the deck, towards safety. I go and my wolf stops at the stairs and watches until I am inside and I close the glass back door. As soon as I was inside, the tan wolf grabs at the meat that I had left, even though my wolf was closest to her and a threat against him for the food, he continues to glare at me. He holds the glare for a little longer when he slips back into the woods.

My wolf gazes at me once more before walking to the edge of the woods where she sits down and continues to watch me.

The distance between us has never felt so vast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Wow, my single Frozen chapter gained as many followers and favourites as my 8 chapter long other story. Granted one chapter of Frozen is about twice as long, well about the same length now but it was probably the length of first three chapters of Inner Passion. Again, I don't own Glee nor do I own much of the plot as I am going pretty canon to Shiver (the first book of the trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater). I also have a beta now (lealbee) but this chapter is unbeta-ed just because we are still working out the kinks for beta-ing, so any and all mistakes are still mine. **

**Just a reminder that the Quinn parts are super short because she's a wolf at this point. Except for the scene where she sees Rachel in the bookstore in the first chapter. Just in case you guys haven't read the books, just letting you know that Quinn isn't a werewolf in the strictest sense, like she wont be changing according to months like once a week for a month deal, I'll just let you read more and you can decide. **

**RachelBarbaraBerry: are you talking to wolf Quinn or are you talking to me :P In any case, here's the next chapter, enjoy :) **

**Fate- 187: Yeah :) I think so too. Technically she isn't the current alpha though, her parents are but yea she's next in line.**

**Margaret: Yes, if you looked at the author's note, I had mentioned that it is based off a book. **

**Hope you guys enjoy, review and constructive crit is awesome :) Next chapt is when Quinn becomes human again and the girls meet.**

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Chapter 2

Rachel

When my father got home, I was still lost in the world of the wolves. I was still caught up with the feeling of my wolf on my hands, in my arms, against my chest. I regretfully washed my hands to continue cooking dinner but I still smelt the smell of winter, of forest, of my wolf on my clothes.

It kept the experience fresh in my mind. It had taken me 5 years to get to this point, for my wolf to trust me, to let me get close to it. And then she guarded me, as if she had spent her life doing it, I guess in a way she has. I just wanted to tell someone and anyone who knows me would tell you that I am very verbose. I wanted to tell my dad but knowing him, he wouldn't appreciate, in fact, he'd probably freak out. Both of them would. So I kept my mouth shut.

He stomps the snow off his shoes, coming in to hang up his jacket, he called out "Hey, Rachel. Something smells good, what's for dinner?" "Beef stew for you two," I call back. "Where is Hiram? Is he upstairs painting again?" "Does he ever stop?" Leroy laughs and yells, "Snoogles, time for dinner!" His use of my daddy's pet name showed his good mood.

Hiram appeared in the kitchen within 5 seconds. He never walked anywhere, he was always running so he was a bit breathless. He had paint on a cheek and my dad kissed him, avoiding the paint. "I got a raise," Leroy exclaims. Hiram jumps up and does a little dance in a circle "I get to buy that studio down town!" with a giant smile. Leroy grins and nods, "And Little Star, you get a new car! I'm getting annoyed because I keep having to take your clunker down to Burt's to get it fixed." With a squeal, I jump into his arms, "Thanks, dad!" "Just one that runs better, nothing too fancy, kay?" I nod. A new car means freedom.

* * *

That night, I laid in my bed after my extensive nighttime routine. Suddenly I bolted straight up because I heard the skritch scratch of nails on the deck. Could that be a raccoon? Suddenly, a growl accompanied it. Definitely not a raccoon, maybe it was a wolf. Pulling my pink quilt around me, I head to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. I hear nothing, so I begin to turn to head back to bed, thinking that I had imagined everything. All of a sudden, the tan face and the glaring brown of the wolf from earlier appeared in front of me, scaring the hell out of me. He was right on the other side of the pane of glass and I heard a rumbling growl through the window. It was like he was saying that my wolf was not mine and that she was not meant to protect me. I step forward, towards the wolf and I feel my lips shape into a snarl and I heard a growl and feel the rumble in my own vocal chords. I realized the growl came from me and it had surprised us both. He jumped back and peed on the deck, marking his territory before retreating to the woods. I bite my lip, trying to erase the feeling of the snarl on my face, which felt strange.

I picked up the sweater I had been wearing when I was touching my wolf, bunch it under my head and I fall asleep on it.

I fall asleep to the smell of the woods, to the smell of my wolf. It was as if she was right there.

Quinn

I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, like a memory from long ago. I was drunk with it, with the scent of it. I had gotten to close, my instincts warred against it. Especially after what had happened with the boy but my body sang with the closeness. The smell of summer on her skin, the half cadence of her voice as she spoke to me, the feeling of her fingers, her soft hands on my fur.

Too close, but I couldn't get away. I couldn't stay away from her.

Rachel

All week, I was distracted in school and Glee which is totally unlike me. Especially in Glee, everyone was confused by my lack of participation, I just brushed it off as not having enough sleep, being distracted by the death of my boyfriend of a couple months, Finn, although I had already planned to break up with him before finding out that he had been killed and just being distracted in general. In reality, all I could think about was my wolf.

I started to pay attention as Mr. Shue brought in a policeman to Glee club. He introduced him as Carl Howel. Stephanie, the school slut, said "Wanky. You are too cute to be a policeman." Ms. Pillsbury said "Okay, Stephanie. Let's pay attention." Everyone in school knew about Mr. Shue's thing for Ms. Pilsbury but Ms. Pilsbury had surprised everyone with the policeman boyfriend, Carl Howel. Carl, puts both hands on his gun belt with pepper spray and holsters and he looked young. "Hi, I've been called in by Mr. Shuester to talk to you about this job."

I glance at Kurt and noticed his somewhat dreamy expression when I elbowed him in the ribs. He looked fashionable as usual, his hair coiffed to perfection, tight skinny jeans with a fashionable vest on top of a white collared shirt. You could never see what Kurt was thinking about by looking at his mouth, it was his green-grey-blue eyes that expressed his every emotion. He starts a little, "He's cute, eh," he whispers to me. I haven't yet figured out how to react to Kurt's new vocal interest in boys. He had always been interested in boys which made him nearly as much of a social pariah as I am but he was never vocal about it until recently.

I rolled my eyes, he wasn't really my type, too uptight and not at all interested in what I liked like the wolves or Broadway and music. "I became an officer of the law right after high school," said Officer Carl in a very serious way, "it's a profession that I always wanted to pursue." "Clearly," I whisper to Kurt. Carl glares at us, putting a hand on his gun. I guess that it is habit but it looked like he was considering shooting us for whispering. Kurt appeared to sink into his seat while giggles emanated from the other gleeks. "It's an excellent career choice and it doesn't require college," he continued, "are – uh – any of you considering law enforcement?" At that simple uh, everyone jumps into a frenzy.

A hand shoots up, it is Jenny, one of the horde of female students still wearing black in the wake of Finn's death. "Is it true that Finn's body disappeared from the morgue?" The rest of the Glee club erupts into whispers and jitters and Carl really looks like he wants to shoot her for blurting that out. All he says is "I'm not allowed to share anything about the ongoing investigation." Artie says "There's an investigation?" Jenny interrupts, "My mom heard it from the dispatcher. Is it true? Did someone steal the body?" Theories were yelled out from all corners of the room. Carl looked wide eyed at Mr. Shue who looked bored and called out "Calm down." We all shut up and once again face the front, trying to look interested. Mr. Shue turns to Carl, "So was Finn's body stolen?" Carl looks somewhat helpless as he repeats "I'm not authorized to share anything about the ongoing investigation" but it is kind of sounds helpless, as if there is a question mark at the end of the statement.

"Officer Carl, Finn is important to us and to our school and community," says Mr. Shue. Which is pretty much the biggest lie ever. Finn was a jerk. He may have been the first person other than my parents to pay attention to us but he never did anything for me when I was his girlfriend. He never stopped the slushies, he couldn't deal with losing his popularity and quarterback position when the new football coach came and he lost the position to Sam. He just walked around with that constipated look on his face and that gassy half smirk.

I couldn't figure out what I saw in him. His dancing was just terrible, don't get me started on the time he broke my nose. His singing was just so-so and he was only big news because it was Lima, Ohio.

"We are still in mourning," adds Mr. Shue, gesturing to the sea of black currently residing in the choir room. "This is not about an investigation, this is about our close-knit community." Kurt rolled his eyes at me, I nod back. Carl crosses his arm, he looks a little like an oversized kid being forced to do something. "It's true, we are looking into it and I know that it makes a big impact especially when the victim is so young but I ask that everyone respects the family's privacy and the investigation process."

Everyone notices the shift back to seriousness when Jenny waves her hand again. "Do you think the wolves are dangerous? Do you think this will happen again?" Carl shakes his head, "I think this is a once in a life time attack, I feel this is an isolated accident." Jenny shrieks in her hugely annoying voice, "But she was attacked." My back was facing her but after hearing that statement, I feel everyone staring at me. I bit the inside of my lip, not that being in the centre of attention bothered me, I have been training since I was born to be on Broadway after all. I was more worried about what everyone was thinking, that if it happened to me and it happened to Finn and it could happen to someone. I was wondering how many people it would take for them to go after the wolves. To go after my wolf. This was the real reason I could not forgive Finn for dying, the reason I kept thinking about him even though he hasn't been someone I cared for, for a long time. It didn't feel right to ignore what had happened to him though. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel.

"It happened a long time," I told Officer Howel, "and it was dogs." He nods and looked relieved. "Exactly," he says, "There's no point in attacking the wild animals when it was probably a random incident. There is no use in creating panic when it isn't warranted, panic creates carelessness which leads to accidents." My thoughts exactly, as Officer Carl turns the conversation back to careers in law enforcement and such.

As Mr. Shue dismissed us from Glee, everyone else continued to talk about Finn and Kurt and I just ran out to our lockers. Tina came up behind us and tapped on each of our shoulders, as we turn, we take in her upset expression. "Step mom wants to take us shopping in Columbus. Lame, right? I know! Let's get together tomorrow instead." Her boyfriend Mike comes up beside her, takes her hand and she turns back to say "talk to you guys tomorrow, love yah," as she walks away with Mike. I turn to Kurt, "wanna hang out at my house instead?" He nods. It was weird to ask because we never hung out before high school because that was when he officially came out and when the bullying started happening. But since then, Tina, Kurt and I began hanging out every day.

But that started changing when Tina started going out with Mike, a football player who also joined Glee, he's a dancer primarily. She left us behind, the gay and the disinterested, we were slightly upset about it but we weren't going to keep Tina from her happiness. Our easy friendship had been slightly fractured as a result. "Sure," says Kurt as he loops his arm through mine as we walk down the hallway towards our cars.

He grabs my arm to stop my motion, when Noah Puckerman walks by. Noah was basically Finn's right hand man, basically his brother. He is Jewish like me, has a dark brown Mohawk at the top of his head, slightly tanned skin with hazel eyes. He is also the bad ass jock in our school. I knew him from synagogue and was close with his younger sister, I had come to know that Noah's badassness was simply a front, he had a big heart but he didn't know how to express his emotions and often lashed out. This was probably due to his father leaving and being a drunk, his mother didn't do very much and Noah had basically raised his sister on her own. Noah was just doing his best not to become a "Lima Loser." "He's not wearing black anymore," observed Kurt. Noah looked back as if he knew were talking about him, when we had gotten out of earshot, I say, "maybe he's not mourning anymore." Kurt replies curtly, "maybe he's the only one who ever was in mourning."

* * *

Back at my house, I was baking for vegan cranberry and walnut scones for Kurt and I. Kurt loved photography as well as fashion and Broadway. So he definitely had more obsessions than I did and while we did have a lot in common, I realized my loneliness was self-inflicted while Kurt was just painfully shy and cautious about the homophobic nature of our small town. His pictures almost made me want to join the camera worship that Kurt often did. He made you feel like you were in the picture, these pictures literally were worth a 1000 words.

Kurt says "He was pretty cute, wasn't he?" "Who? Officer no-smile? I've never seen you obsessed over some real person other than Finn for a while there," I sass. Kurt takes a bite of a scone and leans over his steaming tea and says "I think this turning into an obsession, like for uniformed guys. Like oh my gosh. Are you sure you feel nothing for him?" I rolled my eyes, "Too uptight and strict." "I guess I'm feeling the boyfriend urge. Did Tina tell you, apparently one of the pizza deliverers are really cute, maybe we should order pizza." I roll my eyes again and Kurt shuffles through his photos again without looking up. "Since when did you want a boyfriend," I pointed out. He responded with an annoyed, "Don't you?" I mumbled back with a "When I see the right person, I guess." He replied, "How do you know if you don't look. You haven't been with anyone for months, I mean since sophomore year with Finn." I snap, "It's not like you talk to any guy besides those posters on your wall." He jerks back. "Sorry," I say, "I'm just a little annoyed with all the Finn business going on," as I look through the photos in front of me.

I linger on one with Tina, Kurt and I. My dad, Hiram had come out to take it before taking us to school one day. Tina had her arms around Kurt and I, her smile so wide her Asian eyes appeared have shrunk into slits. She looked to be glue that held our motley bunch together and I guessed that she had in many ways. In the photo, Kurt was pale and looked like he belonged in the winter with his pale skin and his eyes and hair that stood out. He had dimples and a toothy smile. However, I looked like I belonged in the summer with my tan skin and my expressive brown eyes but in the photo I looked towards Tina, with a surprised expression instead of my typical hundred watt smile. The more time I spent with Kurt, the more I realized our differences. "I look stupid in that one," says Kurt, "And Tina looks insane. And you look surprised." "You don't look stupid, you look good, me, I look like a dork." I interject, we giggle at each other. "And Tina?" he asks. I answer, "Yeah, you're right, she looks crazy. Or at least highly caffeinated." "Did you see that one," interrupts Kurt, pointing to the next one in the stack.

It was my wolf, half hidden in the woods, her face was completely in focus, her eyes staring into mine. "You can keep it, we'll put the good ones into a book the next time." "Thanks," I say, expressing my appreciation as it meant more than I could say, "is this from last week?" He nods. I stare at the picture of her, breathtaking but not the same as seeing her in real life. I run my thumb over her, as if I could feel her through the photograph. I feel sorrow in me, Kurt stares at me and it makes me feel more alone. Once upon a time, I could talk to Kurt about everything but this felt too personal to share, now something changed and I thought it was me.

He placed another stack of photos on the table, "This is my brag stack," he says. It's an impressive stack with colourful leaves, leaves floating on the river, a single perfect paw print in the snow. I hmm and hah and ooh at all the right places and at the end, I put the one with my wolf back on top. Kurt makes a sort of annoyed sound when he takes the stack and throws the one with my wolf in my direction. "You know, Rachel, I don't even know why I bother sometime…" he couldn't end the sentence and just shook his head. I didn't know what to make of it, like did Kurt want me to pretend to have interest in anything but my wolf. Kurt's phone rings, he picks it up. "Hey dad!" He listens to what his dad is saying and he turns away, mhming and ahaing and he hangs up after saying the appropriate "I love you, dad" and "goodbye" to his father. "I gotta go, Rach. Sorry I lost my temper a little." "It's okay, I'll see you later, kay, Kurt?"

He nods and heads out to his car. I look around the kitchen and begin to clean up. After a while, I realized that if I didn't cook, dinner would have to be stupid canned food which would ruin my efforts to keep fit with my daily elliptical workout. So I put left over soup in a put and set it to simmer. As I waited, I got to thinking of my wolf. I hadn't seen her since I had touched her, nearly a week ago and I knew it shouldn't affect me but it did. I just wanted to see her, I just needed to see her presence to feel complete. Stupid but totally incurable and I couldn't stop it. I went to the back door and opened it, just wanting to smell the woods. I shoved my feet in a pair of moccasins and leaned against the railing. If I hadn't gone outside, I wouldn't have heard the scream, the scream that sounded a lot like my ex-boyfriend. It sounded a lot like Finn.

* * *

It came from the edge of the woods. I heard it again, it sounded like a howl, which then morphed into words. "Help, help," said Finn's voice. I thought I was imagining it, after all, I had heard him a lot over the sophomore year when he was my boyfriend. Still, I followed the voice, hugging my arms around me for warmth, flipping the hood of my hoodie over my head, moving impulsively through the forest. The sound of my footsteps masked any other sounds when I stopped, listening. All I hear is a whimper, distinctly animal sounding and then silence. There was nothing but silence, but I knew that I hadn't imagined the scream.

So I continued forward, the scent of forest leading me forward. I wasn't scared despite being further in the forest than I had ever been. All around me, brilliant reds and oranges in the trees, leaves on the ground, the trickle of the river and the whistling of the wind. Birds chirping in the trees, squirrels chattering and shuffling of leaves all around. It should have been unfamiliar to me but it wasn't, it was like I was being led by a sixth sense. Of course, it wasn't like my being psychic, no this was more like me allowing myself to be led by all my senses. I followed the scent through the smells in the wind, knowing when animals had last travelled through here, hearing the sounds in the clearing, the rustling of twigs, the soft steps of animals and the sound of the wind. I felt like I was home.

This is when I heard it again, the animalistic whimpering. Entering a clearing, I happen upon 3 wolves. It is the blue-eyed blond wolf, the brown eyed she wolf and the tan brown-eyed wolf. My stomach twists at the sight of the tan wolf and I noticed the two she wolves pouncing upon the tan wolf who had a large wound on his shoulder. They pinned him in a show of dominance and they all freeze seeing me. The pinned male, the tan wolf turned to face me and I froze. I knew those eyes. Those brown eyes. "Finn?" I say, the pinned wolf whimpered, all I could think of was how familiar those eyes were. How expressive, how human they seemed. The two she wolves let him up and they all left and I was left with my thoughts. There was no way I didn't remember his voice, his eyes. I knew that it was him, but what was I saying, I thought I must have been crazy but it would mean that Finn is now a wolf. Who else in the wolf pack was actually a person, my thoughts raced to my wolf, I wondered who she was in real life. I guess the forest was holding more secrets than I thought.

* * *

That night, I laid away in bed, again, unable to sleep. When I heard it, a long keening wail. Followed be another and another until there was a cacophony of howls. I could always pick out my wolf's howl with my excellent hearing and perfect pitch. Her rich tone and nearly perfect pitch, it was only slightly sharp but perfect to me all the same. My heart ached inside of me torn between wanting to join them and wanting to keep howling. I imagined them under the starry sky, heads tilted back, nose pointed at the sky. I blinked a tear away, feeling sad and unable to sleep until they stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's**** Note:**** So here's the next chapter, all you wonderful followers, favouriters (lol can you tell I'm tired?) and reviewers! My awesome beta, lealbee just finished look at it and just to keep you guys kinda updated with how the story is going, I have just finished the fourth chapter and lealbee is currently looking through it so it should be up within the next couple of days. Again, I don't own the characters of Glee and most of this is adapted from the Shiver-Linger-Forever series by Maggie Stiefvater. Also, if there are any mistakes, they seemed to have escaped both lealbee and I and I am totally okay with taking responsibility for them. Let me know what you guys think, any concerns and stuff (as long as they aren't hurtful, this is my second fanfiction and the first one isn't going too well. I am suddenly much more interested in this one. Must be all the favs, follows and reviews, lol. and I am pretty insecure about my writing :/) **

**Reviewers:**

**Shaky22: Yup, Finn's a jerk :P Well, I guess it's also because in his mind, he believes that he and Quinn are next in line to be the alpha and beta. Once Russell and Judy die. Technically, he pissed on her porch though :P but yes, he was marking his territory.**

**UltimateSk8erXD: I'll do my best to keep my awesome followers updated, a bunch of reviews is definitely a good way to keep my motivated. I plan to go through all three books but I may leave book canon eventually, I thought the third was a bit anti-climatic. There's about 12 more chapters for this one. So look forward to that :)**

**RachelBarbaraBerry: So sorry about that, leaving you with not enough. but here's the next one and be reassured, the next chapter is huge like literally nearly twice the length of this one. Oh and this one has a little Quinn, the next one has much more.**

**sammyc21: Glad you're enjoying it. Hopefully, I can keep your interest :P**

**Guest: Yup that was the point :P Glad you like it, here you go!**

**Chapter 3**

_Rachel_

The next day, I met Kurt at our lockers again. I wanted to tell him about the wolves but I was nervous, especially with the fight yesterday.

He was rummaging through his textbooks, trying to decide which ones to keep with him and which to leave in his locker.

He asked, "Which ones?"

"The nasty she wolf, the blond blue-eyed she wolf and a new one." I debated on how to tell him and whether I should tell him at all, he was a lot more interested in the wolves than Tina but with our fight yesterday; I didn't know who to talk to. Plus because of the fact that he might think that I am crazy.

"This is going to sound weird, even for me but I think there's something up with the wolves. The new wolf, I think, something happened when the wolves attacked Finn."

He stared at me and said, "What are you trying to say, Rach? He's a wolf now?"

I muttered incoherently and nodded my affirmative.

"You're crazy," he continued, "I mean, it's a nice fantasy and I mean you want him to be alive subconsciously because you still love him. And I can see why you want to believe it"

"No, I haven't cared about him for a long time, Kurt, stop trying to make this about me,"I replied indignantly, "Kurt, I know what I saw, They were Finn's eyes, I heard his voice."

His doubt was making me falter but I wouldn't tell him that. I pressed on, "I think that the wolves turned him into one of them. Wait. What do you mean I wanted to believe it?"

Kurt gave me that look before heading off to homeroom. "Seriously, Rach. You sound crazy. So what? They're all werewolves then?"

I lingered back, letting him enter first since I was lost in my own thoughts. I had been thinking about it but not in that way. I had thought about who my wolf would be, what she would look like, how she acts and stuff.

But then I thought again about it, those long absences where my wolf would disappear, the time she let me touch her, the incredibly human looking responses and mannerisms.

It was safe to say they could be human.

That thought alone made me giddy with happiness and I yearned to find my wolf.

"Don't you think that this is becoming an obsession, Rach?"

"I'm not obsessed. Besides, what about you and your camera," I snapped back.

He shrugged as he made a gesture with his fingers as if to count out a list. "One, it's all you think about. Two, it's all you talk about. Three, it's all you want us to talk about. What do we call that? Oh, yeah! It's called an obsession here in the real world, Rachel!"

"I am just interested," I replied coolly before pointing out, "I thought you were too."

"I am interested, just not like you. Mine is not an all-consuming obsession and I don't fantasize about becoming one."

I didn't say anything, which again, was unusual for me and all I could think of was how unfair Kurt was being. I didn't want to do anything though. I wanted to just walk away and leave him there but I didn't. Instead I kept my voice flat and even then stated "Sorry, for boring you for so long. It must have killed you to look interested for so long."

Kurt grimaced, "Sorry, Rach. I'm trying not to be a diva but you are becoming a little impossible to deal with."

"No, you're just telling me that I am creepily obsessed, Kurt. Thanks a lot."

"Oh, grow up!" screamed Kurt as he threw up his hands in the air.

He pushed around me and walked to his homeroom.

I watch him leave as I turn and head to my own. I pick a seat closest to the front, when Noah walked in and said "I heard you guys talking about the wolves yesterday with the cops."

He has a pleasant voice but his eyes showed his pain and anger. "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt assuming that you have been misinformed instead of being innately stupid. I heard you talking about the wolves, how they are not a danger and whatnot. Well let me tell you the truth, those damn animals killed Finn."

"I'm sorry about Finn," I amended to calm but at the same time, I wanted to shout at him in my wolf's defence. For a second, I wanted to share what I had found with Noah but I discounted that idea.

I knew that he had a tendency to blurt things out especially when he was drunk. Besides, if Kurt thought I was crazy after I told him, Noah would be running to get on the phone to get me registered in an institution.

"Shut up," Noah exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts, "I know you were going to say something about the wolves, them not being a danger but obviously, they are. And someone is going to have to do something about it!"

My mind jumped to the room I knew was in Noah's house... The room with stuffed taxidermy animals with glassy eyes.

I thought about my wolf, stuffed and glassy eyed and I reasoned, "You don't know that the wolves did it,"

I saw his eyes glare at me.

So I sighed then reluctantly voiced out, "Fine, look, something went wrong. And maybe it was one wolf. The odds are the rest of the pack had nothing to do with it."

"How beautiful objectivity is..." Noah retorted and I interjected before he could rant out his beliefs and frustrations. "Do you even know what objectivity is?"

He stares at me and I was wondering what he was thinking when he said "Seriously, get the rest of your green peace wolf loving thing done soon because they won't be here much longer."

I jumped to attention at that. "What? Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm sick of you telling people that they are harmless. They killed Finn! But it's going to be all over. Tonight. Later."

I grabbed his wrist.

He stopped, looking down at the point of our contact before he calmly stated, "What happened to Finn is never happening again. They are killing the wolves. Today. As in, now."

He slipped out of my grip and stomped out of the room. For a second I am surprised, his storm out actually rivalled mine.

For another minute, I sit at the desk, dumbfounded, when I bolted straight up, effectively sending my notes fluttering about like listless birds as I rushed to my car.

I was breathless by the time I got to my car. Noah's words were playing over and over in my head.

I had never thought of the wolves as vulnerable but thinking again what Finn's adopted father, Burt could do as Congressmen especially when fueled grief and anger, helped by his influence and money... he wasn't rich by any means but he still had plenty... was enough to do a lot of damage.

Suddenly, I feared for my wolf and the rest of the pack as well.

I felt the car rumble to life, my eyes are on the line of yellow school buses and I think about how quickly I can get home from school.

I pictured the woods behind my house. Were they already setting up a hunting party?

I had to get home. As the sky began to change colour as the sun began to set, I drove along the forest.

My heart thumped within my chest, my ears began to ring, my hands felt tingly and I knew something must be wrong. I didn't know what bothered me more, the nerves that caused my hands to shake or the urge to curl my lip then growl and fight.

When I noticed the line of pickup trucks on the side of the road, I recognized Noah's black Ford pickup truck and I felt fear rippling in my heart. Their four-ways periodically illuminated the dimming road.

A figure whom I couldn't make out, leaned against a car holding an object that I couldn't yet decipher, but as I got closer, I realized it was Officer Carl, holding a gun.

I realized that I should let my dads know that I would be gone for awhile, so I left them each a message on their phones.

After that was sorted out, all I was really worried about was the line of trucks because they meant that Noah was telling the truth.

Officer Carl was out of uniform, he looked up and he was wearing an orange vest. A door slammed behind me and two more men with orange vests came out with shotguns. They headed towards the woods and I looked beyond them and a gasp left my lips.

I saw more hunters, all wearing orange vests.

My breath had caught in my throat because the hunt had already begun.

I turned back to Officer Carl, pointed to his gun and asked, "Is that for the wolves?"

He looked at it, as if forgetting that he was holding it in the first place. And when he opened his mouth to answer, we both jumped as we heard a loud crack.

Cheers rose from the hunters.

"What was that?" I demanded.

But I already knew what it was. A gun had been fired in the woods behind Breadsticks. My voice was steady, which surprised me and reassured me simultaneously. It means that when I actually get on Broadway, my nerves wouldn't get the better of me.

"They are hunting the wolves, aren't they?" Officer Carl nods but he says "You should go, is your car okay?"

We heard more cheers and another pop, further in the woods. They are hunting the wolves. _My_ wolf.

I grabbed onto Carl's arm. "You got to tell them to stop, they can't shoot back there!"

Carl stepped back, trying but failing to pull his arm out from my grasp, "Miss."

There was another pop, small and insignificant sounding but all I can see in my head is the rolling over of my wolf... tongue lolling, her eyes rolling back, and her breath ceasing.

I didn't know what to think of that image. All I knew was I was suddenly scared.

I noticed his phone clipped to his waist. I pointed to it. "Call them and tell them to stop! My friend is back there. He was going to take pictures this afternoon in the woods. Please you have to call them!"

"What," he shouted, freezing, "There's someone in there? Are you sure?"

I nodded, a mile a minute.

"Yes," I said confidently because I knew for sure. "Please, call them!"

He stopped asking me questions, brought out his phone and dialled a quick number before bringing it to his ear. He pulled the phone away, muttering that there was no reception and he tried again.

I stood by the truck shivering, they have to stop when it gets dark right?

I hopped from foot to foot before Carl came over, "it's not working, I'm going to lock up my gun and I'll go find them for you and spread the word."

As he started to put away his gun, we heard another shot and I felt something buckle inside of me. I couldn't wait any longer.

I ran into the woods, jumped over ditches, tried to avoid twisty roots and branches as I scrambled up hills and ducked and dodged to avoid trees and branches.

I left Carl behind and I heard him calling for me but I was already well ahead of him.

I had to warn my wolf.

But as I ran, slipping and falling, all I could think about was that I was too late.

* * *

_Quinn_

We ran, we were like drops of water, silent, as we rushed around branches and brambles and trees as men chased us within the forest.

The woods that I knew, the woods that I felt safe in, were invaded by the humans. Their strange smells and their loud voices assailed my senses.

I scrambled here and there, guided by the other wolves as we stayed together. I avoided stumbling by taking big flying leaps, over the tangling branches and fallen trees.

It was terrifying to not know where I was.

We exchanged images within our wordless mind speak. The dark figures behind us wearing bright colours and carried sticks that make a lot of noise as our fallen comrades carried the smell of death.

A crack deafened me.

I was out of balance and beside me I heard a whimper. I knew which wolf it was without turning my head. But there was no time to stop; there was nothing to do even if I could.

A new smell hit my nose... it was earthy rot and stagnant water. They were chasing us to the river.

I formed a clear image to my head just as my father and pack leader, Russell did. The wide rippling expanse of water, thin branches of trees growing in the thin soil, the river stretching on for miles in both directions, and a line of wolves huddled on the shore with no escape.

We were the hunted, we slid before them like ghosts in the woods and falling whether or not we fought.

The others kept running towards the river.

I stopped.

* * *

_Rachel_

These were not the woods that I walked through a couple days prior. The colours of reds and yellows and oranges gave way to dark, gloomy black. The sixth sense that was leading me that day was no more as all the familiar paths were destroyed by men in orange vests.

I was completely disoriented and I had to stop to listen for footsteps through the dry leaves and shouts. Despite my extensive elliptical workouts and dance classes to keep fit, by the time I had seen the first orange vests, my breath came in pants since I was beyond tired.

I shouted when I looked around, seeing more orange vests, they were making a lot of noise, trying to move the wolves in a direction. Towards the river, I think; I've been around this part of the woods before.

"Stop," I shouted at the nearest orange vested hunter.

He turned my way, gun in his hands.

I closed the distance between us, stumbling in my fatigue.

He waited for me to catch up, "What are you doing here, miss?"

"You… have… to… stop… I have… a friend… in the woods… She was going to take photographs…" I managed to get out in between breaths.

He squinted at me and looked into the darkening woods, "Now?"

"Yes, now!" I glance to the walkie-talkie pinned to his orange vest and I pointed to it. "Hurry up and call them off since it's almost dark. How they can see him?"

He stared at me before unpinning the walkie-talkie and speaking into it, all in slow motion.

"Hurry!" I shouted in hysterics when I heard another round of shots. I could not have mistaken them to be anything else but gun shots. My ears rang.

In a weird way, I felt pain. Blood flowed in my mind's eye and there is a metallic taste in my mouth. I lifted my hand to my mouth, expecting the red fluid. There was nothing but an absence of pain, of feeling.

"There's someone in the woods," announced the hunter into the walkie-talkie, as if he didn't see the look on my face. As if he didn't see that a part of me was dying... my wolf.

I couldn't think of anything but her hazel eyes.

"Hey, miss."

The voice sounded as young but his hand was firm and currently resting on my shoulder. I look up seeing Officer Carl.

He heatedly asked, "What are you thinking, running off like that with all the guns around."

Before I could reply, he turned to the hunter. "I heard the shots, anyone in Lima heard the shots. It's one thing doing this," he tore the gun out of the hunter's hand, "and it is another thing flaunting it."

I started to twist out of his grip when he tightened reflexively but then letting go when he realized what he was doing.

"You're from the school, I saw you in that Glee club."

I nodded, "what's your name," he asked.

"Rachel Berry," I answered.

Recognition dawned on the hunter's face. he questioned, "The Berry's girl?"

Again, I nodded.

Carl looked at him.

The hunter answered his unvoiced question as he pointed in the direction of my house. "Their house is up there, on the edge of the woods,"

Carl jumps on this bit of information and declared, "I'll escort you to your house and then come back to try to figure out what is going on with your friend. Bob, use that thing to stop the others from shooting."

The cold air was starting to ruffle my hair and prickling my skin. The evening was becoming colder as the sun set.

"I don't need an escort," I informed Carl but he walked with me anyway.

I felt frozen on the inside and on the outside, I had a curtain of red over my eyes and once again, heard the sound of gunfire.

I was so sure that my wolf had been there. It was the scariest thing of my life, worse than the idea of not becoming a star, worse than the thought of not making it to Broadway.

I was afraid for my wolf.

At the edge of the woods, I saw the dark glass of my back door. It was dark and shadowed and unoccupied.

"I can make it from here," I said to Carl. He looked sceptical but I insisted so he reluctantly nodded and headed back the way we came.

For a long while, I stood by the deck in the dark, listening to the faraway noises and the rustling of the trees in the wind.

It was silent.

But suddenly, my senses kicked and I started to hear sounds that I didn't hear before. The rustling of animals in the forest, the crackle of leaves on the ground and the distant roar of vehicles on the highway.

And... the sound of fast, ragged breathing. Suddenly, I realized that the breathing wasn't mine and I held my was then that I realized the breathing wasn't mine.

I held my own breath.

I followed the sound, climbing the stairs of the deck, painfully aware of the creak of the steps. I smelled her, the smell of forest, before I even saw her.

My heart instantly revved into high gear.

It was my wolf.

The motion-activated light clicked on and there she was. She was half sitting, half lying against the back door. My breath hitched as I walked closer, hesitating as I realized her beautiful ruff was gone and saw that she was naked.

I knew that she was my wolf before she opened her eyes. Her hazel eyes, a pale amber in this light flickered open at the sound of my approach. Red was smeared from her ears to her delicately pale shoulders.

Blood, a red war paint.

I can't tell you how I knew it was her but... I just knew and I never doubted it.

Werewolves didn't exist. Despite telling Kurt that I had seen Finn, I didn't really believe it... Well, not until now that is.

The breeze carried the scent of her blood to my nose.

Damn it, I was wasting time.

I pulled out my keys, reached over her to open the door. Too late, I realized I should have held onto her or moved her first because she fell in through the door with a crash. She left a smear of blood on the door in her wake.

"I'mmmm sorrryyyy," I stuttered, as I jumped over her body, not caring if she heard as I ran around the house grabbing supplies, a bunch of dish cloths, Hiram's keys off the counter so that I could drive her to the hospital.

I ran back to the door, half expecting that she was no longer there. But she was there... half in, half out... just like when I had left her.

Without thinking, I grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her into the house so that I could close the door. She leaves behind a trail of blood and in that moment, she is so incredibly real.

I asked "What happened?" Even though I already knew, I wanted to hear the timbre and sound of her voice.

She looked into my eyes and answered, "Shot," before showing me her bloody fingers that she was pressing against her wound. My stomach squeezed with nerves, not from what was said but the way she said it.

It was her.

I knew it from the voice; just the way she said it. Her voice was musical, lilting, just like her howl.

"Let me see"

S complied.

I saw that the wound was far out of my first aid capabilities so I press a dishtowel to her pale shoulder and put pressure on it, sort of desperately, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Hold this,"

Her eyes flicker to mine, familiar and hazel, yet they were different. The wildness in her eyes was tempered by compassion, by comprehension, by emotions that I had never seen in her eyes before.

"I don't want to go back," she groaned.

I envision a solemn wolf and a young girl, wracked with shivers and tremors. The girl shivers beneath my hands.

"Don't let me change," she stuttered out.

I laid a second, bigger dish cloth over her, trying to warm her up and cover her goose bumps... trying to cover her nakedness.

Typically, the nakedness would bother me but it just added to the pity of the situation. She was covered in blood and dirt.

My words were gentle, as if speaking louder would cause her to jump up and leave. "What is your name?"

She groaned, her hands shaking as she struggled to hold her hand to her neck, staunching the bleeding. It was already soaked through with her blood and a thin trail leaked toward the floor. She lowered herself to the floor, smearing the blood again. Her eyes once again locked with mine.

"Quinn," she whispered as she closes her eyes.

"Quinn, I'm Rachel. I'm going to start my dad's car and take you to the hospital."

She shuddered and seemed to be trying to say something. I lowered my ear to her lips, "Rachel… I…"

I waited for her to continue but when nothing more left her lips, I got up and went to go start the car. After so long, I still couldn't believe that she was real, that she wasn't a figment of my own imagination.

Whatever she was, she was here now and I wasn't about to just lose her.

* * *

_Quinn_

I wasn't a wolf. But I wasn't quite Quinn yet.

I was a girl in between worlds.

I saw a forest which was my life, a girl outside on her swing. the feeling of a book in my hands, of my hands on metal strings against a wooden structure.

The future, the present and the past. winter and snow and summer and warmth and back to winter and snow.

"Quinn," the girl said.

"Quinn..."

She was my past, my present and my future.

I tried to answer her but I couldn't.

I was too broken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **I know this has been really delayed but my beta and I have been really distracted by Christmas and stuff. Also speaking for myself, the Toronto ice storm has left me with crappy internet for the last couple days although I am extremely lucky as I haven't lost power and ff has been off and on today as well. I hope I am forgiven, I stayed up till 2:30 to post this for you guys. I figured I should post while I have internet and ff is up. Anyway, enjoy your Boxing Day chapter and review and fav and follow and pm to your heart's content. Again I don't own any of the glee characters nor much of the plot as I am following the Shiver-Linger-Forever trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater. Also huge shout out to lealbee for getting this done, even with Christmas and everything and dealing with my rambling and terrible grammar **  
**

**RainbowKissed14 - **really? Where are you from though? I know it is popular in North America where I am from. I think I kinda answer your question about the hospital in this next chapter though so I won't spoil it here. Just read your questions will be answered. Yea I borrowed that from the book. I don't normally write so poetically...

**Erica P - **I'm glad your enjoying this. Again, can't take total credit for this, I'm just adapting the trilogy to fit the Quinn and Rachel dynamic and without lealbee it'd probably be worse off.

**RachelBarbaraBerry** - teehee gotta keep you coming back for more... Don't worry, completely understand the love hate relationship that you seem to have with cliffhangers. Here's some more Rachel Berry quick thinking for you.

**Harley Quinn Davidson, Polux, logansquare2212- **here's your update, enjoy.

**xxDark Angel Babyxx** - Santana and Britt are both wolves. The unchanging sort. By the way, would anyone be interested in seeing Brittana, I hadn't planned to write them any human parts but it can be arranged if I get enough people who want it. Enjoy your update though :)

**Chapter 4**

_Rachel_

I stared at Quinn a lot, mostly when she was a wolf earlier; and now in the hospital, I was definitely staring at her, but Quinn as a human.

The good thing was that she doesn't know. She wouldn't know as well because she was sedated. And the truth was, I was staring—quite obsessively if I say so myself—but I just couldn't stop.

If Quinn had gone to my school, she would probably be one of those who taunted me. The one who would make fun of me since she would be one of the popular kids, maybe even a Cheerio. Everything about her was perfect; her blond hair, her perfect nose, her hazel eyes, her athletic body and no one could really blame me if I couldn't stop staring.

She looked nothing like a wolf but she was my wolf. And I was so sure of one thing: it's her.

"Oh, honey, you're still here? I thought you left."

I turned as the curtains parted. There was a nurse in green scrubs with a name tag inscribed with Penny.

"I'm staying until she wakes up," I explained before grabbing onto the side of the cold metal hospital bed just to prove how unmovable I am. Maybe that was just my overdramatic side—the trait where I apparently inherited it from Leroy despite Hiram being the artist in our family.

Penny smiled at me with pity. "She's going to be asleep for the rest of the night because she's highly sedated."

"Then that's how long I will be staying," I replied resolutely. I had already waited hours while the doctors removed the bullets and stitched up her wounds.

By now, it must have already been midnight. I kept waiting to feel tired but every time I managed to calm down, I feel a jolt.

I realized that my dads hadn't bothered to call me after returning from Hiram's gallery opening. They probably didn't even notice the bloody towels I had left behind or the fact that Leroy's car was missing. Or maybe they weren't home yet… Midnight was early for them.

Penny's slightly fake smile—I would know after training to be on Broadway and being able to determine what facial expressions looked like—stayed on her face. "She's lucky, you know. For the bullet to just graze her..."

Her eyes glittered. "Do you know why she did it?"

I frowned at her, nerves prickling. "I don't know. Are you asking me why she was in the woods?"

"Honey, both you and I know that she wasn't in the woods."

I looked at her quizzically, waiting for her to say something else. But when she didn't, I replied "Uh, yeah. She was. A hunter accidentally shot her."

It wasn't a lie, except for the part of it being an accident but I relied on my acting skills from all those acting classes to pull it off and look nonchalant. I was pretty confident that the hunter probably meant to hit the wolf that Quinn was.

Penny chuckled. "Look… Rachel, is it? Are you Quinn's girlfriend?"

I grunted in a way that could either be taken as a yes or a no depending on the person listening.

Penny took it as an affirmative. "I know you are really close to the situation, but she really does need help."

Realization dawned on me. They thought that she shot herself. I almost blew it and laughed but I managed to keep a straight face. "Look, Penny, is it? You're wrong!"

She glared at me. "Did you think we would miss these?" She then proceeded to grab Quinn's other limp arm and lifted it to show me scars along her arms.

I stared at them blankly. They didn't mean anything to me, and I didn't even know of them beforehand. I shrugged. "Those were from before I knew her. I'm just telling you she didn't try to shoot herself tonight. She didn't try to kill herself. It was some crazy, idiotic hunter."

"Sure, honey, let me know if you need anything."

Penny glared at me before leaving, pulling the curtains closed behind her and leaving me alone with Quinn.

Face flushed, I gripped onto the rail of Quinn's bed. Of all of my pet peeves, condescending adults was near the top of the list.

A second after Penny had left, Quinn's eyes snapped open and I jumped out of my skin, hearing my heart pounding in my ears. It took a long moment of staring at her for my heart rate to return to normal. I reached for her hand and she let me take it. She stared right back at me with her gorgeous hazel eyes, ones that I could get lost in with its swirling greens and yellows.

My voice came out a lot quieter than I expected. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"Who are you?" Her voice had the same complicated and melodious yet mournful tone as her howl. "Your voice sounds familiar."

Pain flickered through me. It hadn't occurred to me that Quinn wouldn't remember her time as a wolf.

She brought my hand to her nose with a bit of an embarrassed look on her face and took a sniff followed by another. She smiled. It was a shy smile but a smile just the same and at the sight of it, I smiled as well. It was absolutely adorable and my breath stopped in my throat.

"I know that smell. I didn't recognize you. Sorry, you looked different and I feel stupid for not remembering. The memory sometimes takes a few hours to come back." She placed my hand alongside hers back on the bed; and admittedly, it was a little hard to concentrate with the skin on skin contact.

"Come back? Come back from what?"

"Come back from when." She corrected before continuing, "…come back from when I was…"

She trailed off, probably wanting to hear me say it. Wanting to hear me admit it out loud.

It was harder than I thought it would be.

"When you were a wolf…" I whispered, "Why are you here?"

"Because I was shot," she stated nonchalantly.

"No. I mean, why are you human?"

She blinked. "Because it's spring and because it's warm. The warmth makes me shift and it makes me… me. Makes me Quinn."

I pulled my hand away, trying to gather my thoughts and my sanity or what was left of it. I opened my eyes, and possibly picked the most stupid thing to say—which was a tendency I have—as I blurted, "It's September. It's not spring."

I saw worry clouding her features and dancing in her eyes.

"That's not good," she remarked with a slight smirk. "Can I ask you a favor?"

I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice. I couldn't believe it.

I was talking to my wolf.

Her voice. It shouldn't have sounded familiar because I had never heard it before but it was. Simply because it was my wolf's. And I guess it spoke to me, in a deep way. Like her eyes had when she was a wolf.

I opened my eyes and found out she was still there. I closed them once again and reopened them, half-expecting it to be a dream and for her to be gone any minute.

She laughed. "Are you having an epileptic fit or something? Should you be in this bed?"

I scoffed and Quinn blushed at the double meaning behind her words. Choosing to ignore the question, I asked, "What's the favor?"

"I, uh, need some clothes… and I need to leave before they figure out that I am a freak."

"How would they figure that out, I may ask? It's not like I can see a tail or anything." I joked.

Quinn reached up towards her neck, peeling back the dressing on her neck.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" I nearly shouted, reaching forward to stop her. But I was too late.

She peeled away the dressing to reveal new stitches through a wound that looked weeks old. There was no fresh blood, not even an evidence for the wound that was there mere hours ago.

I gasped.

Quinn smiled, clearly proud of herself for producing such a reaction from me. "See? Don't you think they would suspect something?"

"But there was so much blood…"

"Yeah, I couldn't heal because there was so much blood; but once they stitched it up and removed the bullet…" She made a sort of motion, kind of like the one magicians make—like a sort of _abracadabra_ motion. "Let's just say there are some perks to being me."

Her words were light-hearted, spoken with that magical voice but her eyes were watching me as if I would freak out or go crazy at her revelations.

I again stepped forward, my hand motioning towards her neck.

"May I?" I asked cautiously.

She nodded and I pressed my fingers to the scar. Her skin was warm to the touch while the scar was smooth. It was like it never happened; my hand lingered on her smooth pale skin a little longer than necessary.

"Okay, so you need to leave before they look at that again. But, don't you need to sign medical forms or whatever?"

"No, I don't. They'll just think that I'm some kid with no insurance. They're kind of right, the no insurance part, at least."

So much for being subtle… But I, Rachel Berry, was never good at subtlety. Apparently, I am too much of a drama queen. "No, they'll think you're skipping out on counseling. Because of the uhm…"

She stared at me, confused.

I tried again. "The… uh…"

I gave up and just pointed at her wrist.

"Oh that? I didn't do them," she stated somewhat nonchalantly.

I frowned at her but tried not to say anything because I felt like anything I said would sound like an excuse or it would sound like I was judging her. I would sound as bad as Penny and I could not have myself becoming someone that I hated. Well not that I hated people, since apparently, I'm very forgiving.

She rubbed a thumb on one of her wrists. "My dad did this one. After he found out that I was not the perfect girl that he thought I was. He has found out that I liked girls instead of guys like perfect girls do. They had forced me into the bathtub, turned on the water and my dad just dragged the blade across my wrists while my mom held me down because my dad told her to. Then, he spat in the wounds. Then when I tried to straighten myself out with a boy, I got pregnant. My mom did the other side when she found out, my dad wasn't around and that's what she thought he would want. I still can't look at any bathtubs."

It took me a moment to understand but when I did, I locked eyes with her once again. And then my world turned back and the ground came up to meet me.

When I opened my eyes again, the curtain had been pushed back and a male nurse who was blond with the same green scrubs and a nametag with Sam inscribed rushed in.

Quinn pretended to be asleep and had slapped the bandage back on her neck.

Sam kneeled beside me, helped me to sit back up, and asked, "Miss, are you okay?"

I had fainted. I have never fainted in my life.

I blinked my eyes since I saw three Sams for a second before slipping on my best show smile then proceeded to lie. "I just thought about all the blood I saw when… When I found her," I struggle to stand, "Ooooohhhh…"

The noise I made sounded pretty real and I guess that it was. I was a little lightheaded, after all.

He smiled sweetly, "Don't think about it."

I then realized that his hand was a little close to my boob for casual contact. And besides, he was not my type at all despite him looking like a female version of Quinn though with really big lips and it solidified the slightly embarrassing plan that I had in my head.

"I think… I need to ask an embarrassing question," I said feeling a blush rising in my face. This was almost as bad as if I was telling the truth but I knew at least it would be good practice for my future Broadway career. "Do you think I could have a set of scrubs? I, uh, my pants…"

"Oh, I'll just be a second," stammered the poor nurse. He was probably embarrassed after his earlier flirtations, as he rushed out to get what I had asked for.

True to his word, he returned with a pair of green scrubs and seemed to just stand there, not knowing what to do. I cleared my throat and looked at him meaningfully as he understood and left.

Quinn's eyes snapped open and whispered amusedly, "Did you just tell him that you had an accident?"

"Why you! Shut. Up. I did that for you," I hissed furiously while chucking the scrubs on her head. "Hurry up before they realize I didn't really go potty on myself. You owe me."

She grinned, pulled the scrubs under the thin hospital sheet, and wrestled them on. She tugged the dressing from her neck and peeled the blood pressure cuff from her arm which shrilled loudly.

"Time to go," she said before grabbing my hand and leading us out through the curtains. She took in the room as we heard Penny's shrill voice, "She was sedated!"

Quinn stood up straight. Now that she was not bleeding and in scrubs, she easily maneuvered in the halls, across the nurses' station then out of the emergency room. All the while, I could see her wolf's mind, cautiously analyzing the situation. The tilt of her head showed that she was listening and scenting out the situation in front of us. Her lithe figure easily cut out a path for us until we were at the front lobby.

A country song was playing from the speakers. At this time of night, there was no one in the waiting area, not even a receptionist.

I was so high on adrenaline that I felt like I could probably fly to my dad's car. I realized that I had left my car on the side of the road and I needed to find some time to go get it but I couldn't bring myself to care. After all, my wolf was a cute girl and she was holding my hand. I could die right about now and I would be happy.

Then I felt Quinn's hesitation. She held back, eyes flickering to the darkness outside the hospital doors. "How cold is it outside?"

"Probably around the same as when we came in, give or take. Why? Will it make a difference?"

Quinn's face darkened. "It's right on the edge. I hate this time of year. I could easily be either."

I heard the pain in her voice. "Does it hurt to change?"

She looked away from me but then quietly said, "I want to be human right now."

"I want you to be human too. I'll go start the car and get the heaters going." I paused before continuing, "…that way, you will only be in the cold for a second."

She looked a little helpless. "But I don't know where to go."

"Where do you normally live? Is it still with your parents?"

I hoped it wasn't somewhere pitiful like a homeless shelter downtown, I didn't think she still lived with her parents who had cut her wrists, I hoped to any god out there that it wasn't with her parents.

"Sue's… She's one of the wolves… but only when she changes, a lot of us stay at her house. But if she hasn't changed yet, the heat wouldn't be on. I could… And my parents are wolves, they're…"

"The one that looks like you but with darker fur and more amber eyes and the lighter furred she wolf with green eyes,"

I interrupted her. "You can stay at my house."

Her eyes widened. She was clearly hesitant as she tried to argue with me. "But your parents—"

"Probably won't even notice," I cut her off before shrugging. "Besides, what they don't know won't kill them," I explained, pushing upon the hospital door before running towards the car.

Wincing at the cold night air, Quinn withdrew from the door, wrapping her arms around herself but even as she did that, she smiled at me. I turned towards the dark parking lot once again, feeling happy and free yet afraid.

No emotions seemed to compare to this, even Broadway and singing seemed to pale in comparison.

* * *

"Are you sleeping?" Quinn's voice was barely a whisper but since she was in my room where she didn't yet belong, it sounded like a shout.

I rolled in bed towards where she lay on the floor—a dark shape bundled with pillows and blankets. Her presence didn't seem to belong in my room yet it was wonderful as it filled up my room at the same time. I felt like I would never sleep again.

"No."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

She paused. "Can I ask you two questions then?"

"Again, you already did."

Quinn groaned and threw one of my pink pillows that I had lent her in my direction. It arced across the room, a blackened projectile and came to a thump beside my head. "So you're a smart ass then."

I couldn't help but grin. "I'll play then. What's up? What do you want to know?"

"You were bitten." She finally stated; but it wasn't a question either.

I could hear the interest in her voice and feel the tension in her body even if she lay across the room. I slid down into my pillows as if that could will away the question, as if it would make it disappear.

"I don't know," I answered.

Quinn's voice rose above a whisper. "How can you not know?"

"I was young," I justified shrugging, as if she can see it.

"I was young too but I knew what was happening." She seemed to have been expecting an answer but when I didn't say anything, she continued, "Why didn't you try to move or protect yourself? You didn't know that they were trying to kill you?"

I stared at the dark square of night through the window, lost in the memory of Quinn as a wolf.

The pack had circled around me; tongues and teeth, growls and snarls. One wolf had stood back, ice decked ruff standing at attention and quivering as she stared at me. Lying in the cold, I stared at her, under a white sky going dark.

She was beautiful, hazel eyes with swirling greens and golds, filled with a complexity that I could only achieve with my _Don't Rain On My Parade _act that I had been practicing since I was born. She gave off the same scent as the other wolves—musky, rich, feral.

Even now, as she lay across the room, I could smell it on her even though she was wearing a pair of pajamas that I had lent her and a new skin.

Outside, I heard a low, keening howl, and then another. It was gorgeous but it was missing the musical mournful tone of Quinn's howl. My heart quickened struck with sick feeling of abstract longing; and on the floor, I heard a strangled whimper coming from Quinn. The sound was halfway between a wolf and a human.

"Do you miss them?" I asked cautiously, tentatively.

Quinn climbed from her makeshift bed and stood by the window—an unfamiliar silhouette against the night, her arms wrapped around her lanky body.

"No… Yeah. I don't know like it makes me… sick, like I don't belong."

It sounded familiar and I wanted to say something but I didn't know how to word it.

She seemed to feel my stare so she turns to face me. She then cupped my cheek.

I blurted, "I know what you mean. It's like getting bullied pretty badly at school. It's because of my two dads and because they all think that I'm too driven or something. I get slushied, they call me names and I get trips to the dumpsters behind the school. I have never felt like I belonged there. There are, in fact, only two places that I have felt like I have belonged to. And that's Broadway and the forest, where I used to see you."

She smiled beautifully. "But it's okay. I'm here now. I'm me now."

I wasn't sure if she said that to convince me or her.

She remained by the window as the howls of the wolves reached a crescendo and then trickled away, causing my eyes to prickle with tears with the beauty of it.

"Come over here and talk to me." I said, trying to distract both of us but I couldn't see Quinn's expression because she was half turned. She didn't move an inch though.

"It's cold down there on the floor and you'll get a crick in your neck," I declared yet still, she didn't oblige. "Just come up here before I change my mind." I added jokingly.

"What about your parents?" She asked.

It was the same question she had asked in the hospital and I was about to ask her why she worried about them so much when I remembered Quinn's story about her own parents and her pink and puckered scars on the underside of her wrists.

"You don't know my parents."

"Where are they?" Quinn questioned.

"Gallery opening, I think… Hiram is an artist."

Her voice was dubious. "At three o'clock in the morning?"

My voice was louder than I meant it to be. "Just get in. I trust you to keep in control of yourself and not to hog the sheets." When she hesitated, I urged. "Hurry up while there is still night left."

Obediently, she retrieved one of the pink pillows off of the floor and brought it with her before hesitating again on the other side of the bed. In the dim light, I could just make out her slightly mournful expression as she regarded the forbidden territory of the bed. I wasn't sure if I should be charmed at her reluctance to share the bed with a girl or insulted that apparently I wasn't hot or attractive enough for her to charge into bed with me.

Finally, she climbed in as the bed creaked under her weight. She winced before settling into the very edge of the bed, not even underneath the blanket.

I could smell the very faint wolf scent now and I sighed in contentment.

She sighed too.

"Thank you," she said, a little formal—considering the fact that she was laying in my bed.

"You're welcome."

The truth of it all struck me.

I was lying in bed with a shape shifting wolf girl. But it wasn't just any shape shifting wolf girl. It was my wolf. I kept reliving the moment when I saw her; outside on my porch and covered in blood. A weird combination of excitement and nervousness shot through me.

Quinn turned in the bed to look at me as if my thoughts had set up a signal. I could see her eyes glitter.

"They bit you. You should have changed too, you know."

As she said that, my head pictured out the wolves circling a body in the snow—my body—with them having bloody mouths, baring teeth, and all the while growling over their kill. A wolf, who I now knew was Quinn, dragged my body away from the circle of wolves. She carried it through the trees on two legs that left human footprints in the snow.

I knew I was falling asleep so I shook myself awake; I couldn't remember if I had answered Quinn.

"Sometimes I wish I had," I told her.

She closed her eyes, miles away on the other side of the bed.

"Sometimes I do, too."

* * *

_Quinn_

I woke up in a rush. I blinked a couple of times and looked around, trying to remember what happened, trying to remember what had woke me up.

The events of the previous night rushed back to me as I realized it wasn't a sound that had woken me but a sensation—a hand resting on my arm. Rachel had rolled over in her sleep, and I couldn't stop staring at her fingers resting on my skin.

Here, lying next to the girl who had rescued me, who I had once rescued, my simple humanity felt like a triumph. I rolled onto my side and for a while, I just watched her sleep as long, even breaths moved the flyaway hairs on her face. In slumber, she seemed utterly certain of her safety, utterly unconcerned by my presence beside her. That felt like a subtle victory, too.

When I heard her father get up, I lay perfectly still with my heart beating fast and silent, ready to leap from the edge of the mattress in case he came to wake her for school. But he left for work in a cloud of juniper-scented aftershave that billowed toward me from under the door. The other father, I guess it's the artist, left soon after, noisily dropping something in the kitchen and swearing in a pleasant voice as she shut the door behind him.

I couldn't believe they wouldn't glance into Rachel's room—pink with a gold star on the door, Broadway posters all around—to make sure that she was still alive, especially considering they hadn't seen her when they came home in the dead of night.

But the door stayed shut and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

I slipped out while Rachel slept. I needed to go get my own clothes. I had taken a tour of Rachel's closet and everything would be slightly small on me or definitely wouldn't be useful in flattering Rachel. She didn't even stir as I left.

I hesitated on the back deck, looking at the frost-tipped blades of grass. I had borrowed a pair of her boots but I still felt the early morning air on the skin of my bare ankles beneath the rubber. I could almost feel the nausea of the change rolling over in my stomach.

"_Quinn_," I told myself, willing my body to believe. "_You're Quinn_."

I needed to be warmer, so I retreated inside to find a coat. Damn this weather. What had happened to summer? In an overstuffed closet that smelled of stale memories and mothballs, I found a black wool jacket that must have belonged to Rachel since it was feminine and nearly my size.

Despite the chilly air that made ghosts of my breath, the woods were beautiful this time of year, all bold primary colors; crisp leaves in startling yellow and red, bright cerulean sky. Details I had never noticed as a wolf, but as I made my way toward my stash of clothing, I missed all the things I didn't notice as a human.

Although I still had heightened senses, I couldn't smell the many subtle tracks of animals in the underbrush or the damp promise of warmer weather later in the day. Normally, I could hear the industrial symphony of cars and trucks on the distant highway and detect the size and speed of each vehicle. But now all I could smell was the smokiness of autumn, its burning leaves and half dead trees and all I could hear was the low, barely audible hum of traffic far in the distance.

As a wolf, I would have smelled Santana's approach long before she'd come into sight.

But not now.

She was nearly on top of me when I got the feeling that something was close. The tiny hairs on my neck stood at attention and I had the uneasy sense that I was sharing my breath with someone else.

I turned and saw her, big for a female, brown black coat shining in the sunlight. She seemed to have survived the hunt without so much as a scratch, her ears slightly back. She seemed to be tracking me.

"Shhh," I said and held my hand out, palm up, letting what was left of my scent waft toward her. "It's me."

Her muzzle curled in distaste as she slowly backed away and I guessed that she recognized Rachel's scent layered on top of mine.

I knew I did; even now, her spare strawberry and vanilla aroma clung to my hair where I'd lain on her bed and to my hand where she'd held it.

Wariness flashed in Santana's eyes, mirroring her human expression.

This was how it was with Santana and me… I couldn't remember a time we hadn't been subtly at odds. We had always been frenemies. Especially when I was chosen as head cheerleader and then I had taken her spot as head cheerleader by throwing her under the bus after my pregnancy.

When she had come out with Brittany to her parents, they had kicked her out. It was simpler for her to run away with Brittany to the woods than deal with her lack of future, than to deal with what was in front of her. She wanted to be a wolf while I wanted to stay human and hold onto Rachel.

Now, in those September woods, we regarded each other. Her ears tipped toward and away from me—collecting dozens of sounds that escaped my human ears—and her nostrils worked, discovering where I had been. I found myself remembering the sensation of dried leaves beneath my paws and the sharp, rich, slumber-heavy scent of these autumn woofs when I was a wolf.

Santana stared into my eyes… a very human gesture, considering my rank in the pack was too high for wolves other than my parents or Sue to challenge me like that and I had imagined her human voice saying to me, as it had so many times before, "_Don't you miss it?_"

I closed my eyes, shutting out the vividness of her gaze and the memory of my wolf body and instead thought of Rachel, back at the house. There was nothing in my wolf life that would ever compare to the feeling of Rachel's hand in mine, the feeling of her head on my chest.

Santana disappeared into the woods, led by Brittany, soft as a whisper. That she could disappear with the same silent stealth as she had arrived reminded me of my vulnerable state so I headed hurriedly to the shed where my clothing was stashed.

Years ago, Sue and I had dragged the old shed, piece by piece from his backyard to a small clearing deep in the woods. Inside was a space heater, a boat battery and several plastic bins marked with my name and pulled out the stuffed backpack inside. The other bins were loaded with food and blankets and spare batteries, equipment for holing up in this shack, waiting for other pack members to change but mine contained supplies for escape. Everything that I had here was designed to get me back to humanity as soon as possible and for that, Santana couldn't forgive me.

I hurriedly changed into my several layers of long-sleeved shirts and a pair of leggings followed by jeans and traded in the boots for wool socks and my own leather boots. I got my wallet with my summer-job money in it before stuffing everything left over into the backpack. As I shut the shed door behind me, I caught dark movement out of the corner of my eye.

"Russell," I said.

But the black wolf, our wolf pack leader, was gone.

I doubted he even knew me now. To him, I was just another human in these woods, despite my vaguely familiar scent. The knowledge pricked a kind of regret somewhere in the back of my throat. Russell hadn't shifted since a year or so after he cut my wrists. And my mother stopped shifting the year after finding out about my pregnancy.

I knew my own remaining shifts were numbered, too. Last year, I had shifted in June, a frighteningly huge jump from the previous year's shift in early spring, when there was still snow on the ground. And this year? How late would I have gotten my body back if Burt Hummel or one of his lackeys hadn't shot me?

I didn't really understand how being shot had given me back my human form in this cool weather. I thought of how frigid it had been when Rachel knelt over me, pressing a cloth to my neck. It hadn't been summer for a long while. The brilliant colors of the brittle leaves all around the shed mocked me then. It served as evidence that a year had lived and died without my being aware of it.

I knew with sudden, chilling certainty that this was my last year. To meet Rachel only now seemed like an intensely cruel twist of fate. I didn't want to think about it.

Instead, I jogged back to the house, checking to make sure that Rachel's dads' cars were still gone. Letting myself in, I hovered around the bedroom door for a second, loitering for a while in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets and the fridge even though I wasn't really hungry.

Honestly, I was too nervous to go back in there_. _I wanted so badly to see her again, this iron-willed ghost that had haunted my years in the woods. But I was afraid too, of how seeing her face-to-face in the daylight might change things. Or worse, wouldn't change things.

Last night, I'd been bleeding to death on her back deck. Anyone might have saved me. Today, I wanted more than saving. But what if I was just a freak to her?

"Quinn?" I jerked upon hearing my name.

Rachel called again in her room, barely above a whisper, probably wondering where I was. She didn't sound afraid.

I pushed open her door and looked around her room. In the strong late-morning light, I could see her personality in the room. It was pink, childish but sophisticated with two tone walls and white borders. There were framed photographs of her and her fathers, with matching black frames. There was a small little desk with a laptop placed in the upper right hand corner, a chair tucked in, a cup filled with pencils and pens. A big bed with a canopy and glow-in-the-dark appliqués on the ceiling; a large closet filled with sweaters with animals on them and really short skirts.

I kind of really wanted to see her in one of them.

There was a microphone and video camera set up with a blue backdrop in a corner of her room. In another, there was a cork board with an elliptical. Her towel and washcloth were tidily folded on top of the dresser next to a clock and a stack of library books, all relating to music or books with sheet music.

I struggled to find something to say that wouldn't sound like the greeting of an interspecies stalker.

"Good morning," I managed to say without stuttering.

Rachel sat up, her hair frizzy on one side and flat against her head on the other. Her chocolate brown eyes filled with open delight.

"You're still here! Oh! You have clothes, I mean, instead of scrubs or my clothes."

"I went to get them while you were sleeping."

"What time is it? Oh… I'm really late! I have never missed my morning elliptical routine nor missed school. In fact, I was never even late for school. I'm always there early…"

"It's eleven."

Rachel groaned and then shrugged. "You know what? I haven't missed class like ever. I've gotten the award for it like many years running and I've gotten gift cards and free pizza and stuff for it."

"Gift cards? Really?"

"Yeah, I usually spend it on sheet music or something that I need for my future, acting lessons, dance lessons…"

She climbed out of bed. And in the daylight, I could see just how clingy and unbearably sexy her camisole top was.

I turned away.

"You don't have to be so chaste, you know. It's not like I'm naked." Pausing in front of her closet, she looked at me, her expression canny. "You haven't seen me naked, have you?"

"No!" My answer came out distinctly rushed.

She grinned at my lie and pulled out some jeans from the closet. "Well unless you want to see me now, you'd better turn around."

I lay down on the bed, face buried in the cool pillows that smelled of her; strawberries and vanilla. I listened to the rustling sounds she made as she pulled on her clothing, my heart pounding a million miles an hour.

I sighed guiltily, unable to contain the lie. "I didn't mean to."

The mattress groaned as she crashed onto it, her face close to mine. "Are you always this apologetic?"

My voice was muffled by her pillow. "I'm trying to make you think I'm a decent person. Telling you I saw you naked while I was another species does not help make my case."

She laughed. "I'll grant you the leniency… since I should've pulled the blinds."

There was a long silence, filled with a thousand unspoken messages. I could smell her nervousness, faintly wafting from her skin and could hear the fast beat of her heart that was carried through the mattress to my ear. It would have been so easy for my lips to span the inches between our mouths. I thought I could hear the hope in her heartbeat: _kiss me kiss me kiss me_, it chanted.

Normally, I was good at sensing others' feelings, but with Rachel, everything I thought I knew was clouded by my feelings and what I wanted.

She giggled quietly, it was an unbearably cute noise and also completely at odds with how I normally thought of her.

"I'm starving," she said finally. "Let's go find some breakfast or brunch really, I guess."

I rolled out of bed and she rolled after me. I was acutely aware of her hands on my back, pushing me through the bedroom door.

Together, we padded softly out into the kitchen. Sunlight that was too bright blared in the glass door to the deck, reflecting off the white counter and tile in the kitchen and successfully covered us both with white light.

Because of my previous exploration, I knew where things were, so I started taking out supplies.

As I moved about the kitchen, Rachel shadowed me. Her fingers found my elbow and her palm brushed along my back, finding excuses to touch me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her staring unabashedly at me when she thought I wouldn't notice. It was as if I had never changed, as though I still gazed at her from the woods and she still sat on her tire swing and watched me with admiring eyes.

I took out the bacon and was on the way of taking out the ingredients for pancakes when she told me she was vegan. Apparently, she had a special way to make pancakes and had special vegan bacon.

So I pulled out two pans, one to fry my regular bacon simply because I was not giving up my bacon and one to fry hers. She took out a third and took over making pancakes. I made sure to watch her so that I knew how to do it for the next time.

"What are you thinking?" I asked as I turned over the slices of bacon and pouring her a glass of orange juice with human fingers that seemed suddenly precious.

Rachel laughed. "That you're here with me, making me breakfast."

It was too simple of an answer. I wasn't sure if I could believe it, not when I had a thousand thoughts competing for space in my head at the same moment. "What else are you thinking?"

"That's very sweet of you. That I hope you know how to cook bacon." But her eyes lifted from the skillet to my mouth, just for a second and I knew she wasn't only thinking about bacon. She walked away and pulled the blinds, instantly changing the mood in the kitchen. "And it's too bright in here."

The light filtered through the blinds, casting horizontal stripes across her chocolate brown doe eyes and her full and pink lips.

I turned back to the bacon and tipped them onto a plate just as the toast popped out of the toaster. I reached for it at the same time as Rachel, and it was just one of those perfect movie moments where the hands touch and you know the characters are going to kiss. Only this time, it was my arms somehow accidentally circling her, pinning her against the counter as I reached for the toast and bracing against the edge of the fridge as I leaned forward. Lost in embarrassment over my bumbling, I didn't even realize it was the perfect moment until I saw those magical brown eyes close, her face lifted towards mine.

I kissed her, just the barest brush of my lips against hers, as if we would be doing it for the rest of our lives. Even in that moment, I deconstructed the kiss: her possible reactions to, her possible interpretations of, the way it made a shudder tighten my skin, the seconds between when I touched her lips and she opened her eyes and how I didn't even know if she even liked girls.

Rachel smiled at me. Her words were taunting, but her voice was gentle. "Is that all you've got?"

I guess I got my answer for some of my questions. I touched my lips to hers again, and this time, it was a very different sort of kiss.

It was six years worth of kissing. Her lips coming to life under mine, tasting of strawberries, of vanilla and of desire. Her fingers ran through my blond tresses before linking around my neck, alive and cool on my warm skin. I was wild and tame and pulled into shreds and crushed into being all at once.

For once in my life, I was here and nowhere else.

I opened my eyes and it was just Rachel and me…

Nothing anywhere but Rachel and me…

She, pressing her lips together as though she was keeping my kiss inside her…

…and me, holding this moment that was fragile as a bird tightly in my hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note :** Hey everyone. I'm sorry for all of you who have been patiently waiting for more. My beta had been away for the past two days and I have been busy at a conference as well as not having internet or sporadic internet at home. So I'm here at the conference, posting on my ipad. So if there are any mistakes it's because of this little touch screen keyboard that I am typing on. Anyway this chapter has been beta-ed by lealbee and the next chapter might be a while since my internet has been crappy lately. It is finished I just don't know if the internet will cooperate to let me put it up. Also, I'll be in the conference for the today and tomorrow and I'll probably be recovering from New Years the next day so it may be awhile before you guys hear from me again. Just a warning. Of course as usual, reviews and some kind of response will speed up the process so please shout out! Also, I don't own anything from Glee characters nor plot from the shiver-linger-forever series by Maggie Stiefvater. Also sorry for any mistakes, also a note, I am Canadian so I will spell word such as colour or favour or stuff like that differently, they aren't mistakes. Oh! I nearly forgot! I have been asking a few of you how you would feel about Russell and Judy being redeemed (either or or both). I've already decided on redeeming Santana and introducing more brittana but obviously they won't be redeemed the same way or to the same extent. Anyway let me know...

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Reviewers

lealbee: I know I'm not that bad. I just tend to be insecure and saw a lot of crap about myself. Silly me, right?

RachelBarbaraBerry: can't tell you why... but you won't fully understand until the sequel or even the one after... But I think next chapter or this one may give a little of a hint. Yeah I love the tension between them. It makes them my fav Glee couple.

Priscilla20: I'm glad you like it. Can't take the credit tho. Like I said it basically belongs to Maggie Stiefvater. I just adapted the story to fit Faberry and Glee.

Dark angel baby: sorry I got too lazy to type your screenname as is, like i said, posting on a ipad here. Anyway, you won't see the Brittana till later, I'm just redeeming her in the next chapter.

Stephanie310, harley Quinn Davidson: here you go! Enjoy!

Catlover10808: I will not deny or refute that statement... All I will say is by the end of the series it will be a happy ending with bumps and surprises in between.

Well enjoy, until next time,

~magicalwolfgirl

* * *

**_Chapter 5_**

_Quinn_

Some days seemed to fit together like a stained glass window. A hundred little pieces of different colour and mood that when combined created a complete picture.

The last twenty-four hours had been like that. The night at the hospital was one pane, sickly green and flickering; the dark hours of the early morning in Grace's bed were another, cloudy and purple; then, the cold blue reminder of my other life—my wolf life—this morning, and finally the brilliant, clear pane that was our kiss.

In the current pane, we sat on the seat of a little blue Mazda at the edge of a run-down, overgrown car lot on the outskirts of time. It seemed like the complete picture was starting to come into focus, a shimmering portrait of something I thought I couldn't have.

Rachel ran her fingers over the Mazda's steering wheel with a thoughtful, fond touch and then turned to me. "Let's play twenty questions."

I was lying back in the passenger seat with my eyes closed and just let the afternoon sun cook me through the windshield. It felt good. "Shouldn't you be looking at other cars? You know, car shopping usually involves…shopping."

"I don't shop very well," Rachel explained with a sheepish look. "I just see what I need and I get it."

I laughed at that. I was beginning to see how very Rachel such a statement was.

She narrowed her eyes at me in mock irritation, pouted those full pink lips and crossed her arms over her chest. "So questions… These aren't optional."

I glanced out across the car lot to make sure that the owner hadn't returned from towing her car yet—here in Lima, the towing company and the used car company was one and the same. "Okay," I agreed rather hesitantly and my hesitance showed with my next words, "but it better not be anything embarrassing."

Rachel reached over and grabbed my hand, seeming to ask a question without using her words. I nodded and she slid over the car's console and we sat together in the passenger seat. My heart raced.

After settling in, Rachel's voice was pragmatic, as if she didn't know the effect she was having on me. "I want to know what makes you a wolf."

That one was easy.

"When the temperature drops, I become a wolf. When it is cold at night and warm during the day, I can feel it coming on and I get nauseous and twitchy. And then, finally, it's cold enough that I shift into a wolf until spring."

"The others too?"

I nodded before continuing, "The longer you're a wolf, the warmer it has to be for you to become human." I paused for a moment, wondering if now was the time to tell her that it was very likely that this year was my last. "Nobody knows how many years you get of switching back and forth. It's different for every wolf."

Rachel just looked at me… the same long look she had given me when we were younger; when she was lying in the snow as she looked at me. I couldn't read it any better now than I could then.

I felt my throat tighten in anticipation of her reply, but mercifully, she changed her line of questioning.

"How many of you are there?"

I wasn't sure. Just because so many of us didn't become humans anymore.

"About twenty."

"What do you eat?"

"Baby bunnies." She narrowed her eyes, pouting again; so I grinned and added, "Adult bunnies, too. I'm an equal-opportunity bunny-eater."

She didn't skip a beat.

"What was on your face the night you let me touch you?" Her face stayed the same for this question, but something around her eyes tightened, as though she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

I had to struggle to remember that night… her fingers in my ruff, her breath moving the fine hairs on the side of my face, the guilty pleasure of being so close to her. The boy, the one who was bitten. That was what she was really asking.

"Do you mean was there blood on my face?"

Rachel nodded.

Part of me felt a little sad that she had to ask, but of course she did. She had every reason not to trust me. "It wasn't his… that boy's."

"Finn," she provided.

"Finn," I repeated.

"I know the attack happened, but I wasn't there for it." I had to dig deeper into my memory to trace the source of the blood on my muzzle. My human brain supplied logical answers… rabbit, deer, road kill… all of them instantly stronger than my actual wolf memories. I finally snatched the real answer from my slightly blurry wolf thoughts, though I wasn't proud of it. "It was a cat. The blood, I mean. I'd caught a cat."

Rachel let out a breath.

"You aren't upset that it was a cat?" I asked curiously before adding, "I mean, you're vegan and go all: 'Don't hurt the animals.'"

"You have to eat. If it wasn't Finn, it wouldn't have mattered what it was," she stated. But it was obvious that her mind was still on Finn.

I tried to remember what little I knew of the attack, hating for her to think badly of my pack. "He provoked them, you know…" I said.

"He what?! I don't think Finn would do that, but then again, I tend to be very forgiving. You weren't there, were you?"

I shook my head and struggled to explain. "We can't… the wolves… when we communicate with one another, it's with images. But nothing complicated and not across great distances… And if we're right by each other, we can share images with another wolf. So with the wolves that attacked Finn, they were able to show me images."

"You can read each other's minds?" Rachel asked, incredulous.

I shook my head vigorously. "No. I… it's hard to explain as a hu… as me. It's just a way of talking, but our brains are different as wolves. There are no abstract concepts, really. Things like time, names and complicated emotions are all out of question. Generally, it's for things like hunting or warning each other of danger."

"And what did you see about Finn?"

I lowered my eyes. It felt strange, recalling a wolf memory from a human mind. I flipped through the blurry images in my head, recognizing that the red blotches on the wolves' coats were bullet wounds and that the stains on their lips are Finn's blood. "Some of the wolves showed me something about being hit by them. A… gun? Maybe a paint ball gun or a bb gun. He was wearing a red shirt." As wolves, we saw colour poorly but red we could easily recognize.

"Why would he do that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. That's not the sort of thing we tell each other."

Rachel was quiet, still thinking about Finn, I suppose.

We sat in the close silence until I started to wonder whether she was upset. Then she spoke, "So you never get to open Christmas presents?"

I looked at her, not knowing how to respond. Christmas was something that happened in another life, one before the wolves.

Rachel looked down at her lap. "I was just thinking that you were never around in the summer, and I always loved Christmas because I knew you would always be there in the woods. As a wolf. I guess it's because it's cold, right? But that must mean you never get to open Christmas presents."

I shook my head. I had changed too early now to even see Christmas decorations in stores.

Rachel frowned at her lap. "Do you think of me when you're a wolf?"

When I was a wolf, I was a memory of a girl, struggling to hold on to meaningless words. I didn't want to tell her the truth… that I couldn't even remember her name. "I think of the way you smell," I answered truthfully instead.

I reached over and lifted a few strands of her hair to my nose. The scent of her shampoo—strawberries—reminded me of the scent of her skin—vanilla—and together creating a scent that was so uniquely Rachel Berry. I swallowed and let her hair fall back down to her shoulder.

Rachel's eyes followed my hand from her shoulder to my lap, and I saw her swallow too. The obvious question: "When would I change back again…" hung between us, but neither of us put words to it. I wasn't ready to tell her yet and my chest ached at the thought of leaving all this behind when I finally had it.

"So," she dragged out and turned to face me, with her legs in my lap. "Do you know how to drive?"

I pulled my wallet from my jeans pocket and offered it to her. "The State of Ohio seems to think so."

She extracted my driver's license, held it up in front of her and read out loud. "Lucy Q. Fabray. Your real name isn't Quinn?"

"But it is. My middle name is Quinn. As a kid, I was fat and kids made fun of me, calling me Lucy Caboosey. So at some point, my dad decided to move because of a promotion. I discovered gymnastics and dance then started to lose weight. When I turned 16, I asked for a nose job and asked to be called Quinn instead. I discovered cheerleading. And then, I became the way I am today," I said, gesturing towards my body.

"My parents slit my wrists open when I was around 12 because they found out that I liked girls. They are pretty influential here so they managed to keep it under wraps and I knew that no one would listen if I said anything about it. They did it again when I was 16, when they found out about the pregnancy."

Rachel looked away, still holding my hand as if she wanted to comfort me. I put my hand in the small of her back, guiding her to look back at me when I noticed she was trying to hide her tears from me.

"It's okay, Rach. Without that happening, I would have never met you. We need to enjoy the time we have."

She wiped away the tears on her face, brought my license back to eye level and joked, "This is an actual license, you must really be real."

I laughed and she laughed as well. After we sobered up, she gestured to me and asked, "So your parents… They did this to you on purpose?"

"Yeah, especially when my sister, Fran, their 'perfect daughter'… Perfect since she was thin and I was fat... She was polite and I was rude… She was quiet and I was loud… Basically, the perfect opposite of me, you know?"

She nodded.

"Well, anyways, she left and wanted nothing to do with it. They wanted her to be the heir to their alpha and beta heritage but she just found a boyfriend and scorned them and left. I was second pick. I was young and I wanted to have the chance to please my parents especially after I felt that I did so many things wrong when in reality, it was just my crazy parents. So when they told me to do stuff, I would comply."

I breathed in deep. "They asked me to get into the bathtub and I, of course, complied. They turned on the water and me being ever the curious one asked for an explanation. Besides, I had been wearing my favourite Avengers t-shirt. They just told me to be quiet and keep still. They had just learned that I was into girls so I'm sure that was partly because of that as well as Fran leaving. My dad pulled out the blade, cut into my left wrist while my mom held me down as I thrashed."

As I trailed off, I noticed Rachel clutching my hand. I gave her a squeeze and a tight smile before resuming my story, "My dad spit into the wound, effectively injecting the wolf toxin into my bloodstream. After about a year, my dad stopped shifting. My mom waited another couple years but then she found out I was pregnant when I was about 16 and tried to do it again herself, but to my right wrist this time. She hadn't realized that we actually heal a lot better than regular people. I fought back that time. She ended up shifting for the last time that year."

Rachel turned away again, trying to hide her emotions. She spoke tearfully, "What happens to you? Like after you are infected by the wolf toxin?"

I swallowed as I tried to make it sound decent but I was having trouble so I just came out with it. "It, the wolf toxin, makes you sick for weeks afterward while it's changing you… I couldn't stop shifting back and forth, no matter how warm or cold I was."

I paused. The memories of my change flickered through my head like photos from someone else's camera.

Rachel's face was nearing a pale shade of green and the knuckles of her other hand were curled into a hard fist, so hard that they had turned white. "Let's talk about something else," she somehow managed to say.

"I'm sorry," I stated. And I really was. "Let's talk about cars. Is this one your betrothed? I mean, assuming it runs okay? I don't know too much about cars, but I can pretend right? Saying that it runs okay sounds like something someone would say if they knew what they were talking about, right?"

She seized the subject, reaching over to pet the steering wheel. "I do like it." She turned back to me, leaning into me in the process.

We were about an inch away, breathing each other's air. We were close enough for us to kiss if one of us simply made a move.

Suddenly, an image of Rachel in her backyard formed in my mind. Her hand was outstretched as she implored me to come to her. But I couldn't, then. I was in another world, one that demanded I kept my distance. Now, I couldn't help but wonder whether I still lived in that world and bound by its rules. My human skin was only mocking me, taunting me with riches that would vanish at the first freeze.

I sat back from her, well as much as I could while sitting in the same seat as her, and looked away before I could see her disappointment. The silence was thick around us.

"Tell me about after you were bitten," I said, just to say something. "Did you get sick?"

Rachel leaned back in the seat and sighed.

I wondered how many times I'd disappointed her before.

"I don't know. It seems so long ago. I guess… maybe… I remember having the flu right afterward."

After I was bitten, it had felt like the flu too. Exhaustion, hot and cold shakes, nausea burning the back of my throat, bones aching to change form.

Rachel shrugged. "That was the year I got locked in the car, too. It was a month or two after the attack. It was spring but it was really hot. Hiram took me along with him to run some errands, because I guess I was too young to leave behind."

She glanced at me to see if I was listening. I was.

"Anyway I had the flu, I guess, and I was just stupid with sleep. So on the way home I fell asleep in the backseat… and the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. I guess daddy had gotten home then took the groceries out and had forgotten about me. Just left me locked in the car. They said I tried to get out, but I don't remember that, really. I don't remember anything until the hospital, where the nurse was saying it was the hottest May Day on record for Lima. The doctor told my two dads that the heat in the car should have killed me, so I'm a miracle girl, I'm their little star. How's that for responsible parenting?"

I shook my head in disbelief. There was a brief silence that gave me enough time to notice the consternation in her expression and reminded me that I sincerely regretted not kissing her a moment ago. I took her hand and ran my finger along her palm and between her fingers, tracing the lines in her hand and letting my skin memorize her fingerprints.

Rachel made a small sound of appreciation and closed her eyes as my fingers whispered circles on her skin. Somehow this was almost better than kissing.

Both of us jerked when someone tapped the glass on the passenger side of the car.

Burt Hummel stood there, peering in at us. His voice came through, muffled by the glass. "You found what you were looking for, hun?"

Rachel reached across, rolling down the window. She was talking to him but looking at me, gaze intense when she said, "Absolutely."

* * *

_Rachel_

That night, Quinn stayed in my bed again, chastely perched on the farthest edge of the mattress, but somehow during the night our bodies migrated together.

I woke early in the morning, long before dawn as the room was washed clean by pale moonlight, and I found that I was pressed up against Quinn's back, my hands curving around her waist. I could just barely see the pale curve of her shoulder, and something about the shape it made, the gesture it suggested, filled me with a sort of fierce, awful affection.

Her body was warm and she smelled so good… like wolf, and trees, and home… that I buried my face in her shoulder and closed my eyes again. She made a soft noise and rolled her shoulders back against me, pressing closer. Right before I drifted back to sleep again, my breathing slowing to match hers, I had a brief, burning thought: I can't live without this.

There had to be a cure.

* * *

The next day was unseasonably fair, too beautiful to be going to school, but I couldn't skip a second day without coming up with a really good excuse especially since I had made such a big deal about school attendance in the past. It wasn't that I'd get too far behind; it just seemed that when you never miss school for a certain length of time, people tend to notice when you do.

Tina had already called twice and left an ominous voicemail saying_ I'd picked the wrong day to cut class, Rachel Berry!_

Kurt hadn't called since our argument in the hall, so I guess that meant we weren't on speaking terms.

Quinn drove me to school in the Mazda while I hastily caught up on some of my English homework I hadn't done the day before. Once she had parked, I opened the door, letting in a gust of unseasonably warm air.

Quinn turned her face towards the open door, her eyes half-closed. "I love this weather. I feel so me."

Watching her bask in the sun, winter seemed a million miles away and I couldn't imagine her leaving me. I wanted to memorize the straight line of her pale nose for later daydreaming.

For a moment, I felt an irrational stab of guilt that my feelings for Quinn were replacing those that I'd had for my wolf – until I remembered that she was my wolf.

All over again, I had the weird sensation of the ground shifting beneath me at the fact of her existence, immediately followed by relief. My obsession was so – easy now. The only thing I had to explain to my friends was where my new girlfriend had come from. At least I didn't have that many friends besides Kurt, although I don't know if we are quite friends now. But I couldn't imagine how we could be friends in the future if we couldn't even survive one fight, and Tina.

I turned to Quinn. "I guess I have to go."

I later added, "I don't want to though."

Quinn's eyes opened the rest of the way and focused on me. "I'll be here when you come back, promise." She then said very formally afterwards a, "May I use your car? I'd like to see if Sue's still human, and if whether or not her house has the power turned on."

I nodded but part of me hoped the power would be off at Sue's house. I kind of wanted Quinn back in my bed, where I could keep her from disappearing like the dream that she was.

I climbed out of the Mazda with my backpack. "Don't get any tickets, speed racer."

As I came around the front of the vehicle, Quinn rolled down her window.

"Hey!"

"What?"

Shyly she stated, "Come here, Rachel."

I smiled at the way she said my name and returned to the window smiling wider when I realized what she wanted. Her careful kiss didn't fool me; as soon as I parted my lips slightly, she sighed and pulled back.

"I'll make you late for school."

I grinned. I was on top of the world. "You'll be back at three?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

I watched her pull out of the school parking lot, already feeling the length of the school day stretching before me. At least there was no Glee practice after school.

A binder smacked my arm.

"Who was that?!"

I turned to Tina and tried to think of something that was easier than the truth. "My ride?"

Tina didn't push the issue, mostly because her brain was already on to something else. She grabbed my elbow and began steering me towards the school.

Surely, there had to be some kind of eternal reward waiting for me for going to school on a gorgeous day like this instead of spending it with Quinn.

Tina wiggled my arm to get my attention. "Rachel. Focus. There was a wolf outside of the school yesterday. In the parking lot. Like, everyone saw it when school got out."

"What?!"

I practically shouted as I craned my neck and looked over my shoulder at the parking lot, trying to imagine a wolf amongst the cars. The sparse pine trees that bordered the lot didn't connect with the woods behind Breadsticks. The wolf would have had to cross several streets and yards to get to get to the parking lot.

"What did it look like?"

Tina gave me a weird look. "The wolf?"

I nodded.

"Like a wolf. Brown." Tina saw my withering look and shrugged. "I don't know, Rachel. Tan? Brown eyes? With mucky gross scratches on its shoulder, it looked scruffy."

So it was Finn. It had to be.

"It must have been total chaos," I stated.

"Yeah, you should have been here, wolf-girl. But seriously, nobody got hurt. Thank God, but Kurt completely freaked out. The whole school was freaked out. Puck was totally hysterical and made a huge scene." Tina squeezed my arm. "So why didn't you pick up your phone, anyway?"

We walked into the school; the doors were propped open to let in the balmy air.

I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. "Battery died."

Tina made a face and spoke louder to be heard over the crush of students in the halls. "So, are you sick? I never thought I'd live to see the day that you didn't make it to class. Between you not being in class and the wild animals roaming the parking lot, I thought the world was coming to an end. I was waiting for the rains of blood."

"I think I got some sort of twenty-four-hour bug. It was bad; I couldn't get out of bed," I replied.

"Ew, should I not touch you?" But instead of moving away, Tina slammed her shoulder into mine with a grin.

I laughed and shoved her off, and as I did, I saw Noah Puckerman.

My smile faded.

He was leaning against the wall by one of the drinking fountains, his shoulders hunched forward.

At first, I thought he was looking at his cell phone, but then I realized his hands were empty and he was just staring at the ground. If he hadn't been such a badass, I would have thought he was crying. I wondered if I should talk to him.

As if reading my thoughts, Noah looked up then, and his eyes, so similar to Finn's even if they weren't related—Noah's was just a lighter shade—met mine.

I could read the challenge in them:_ So what are you looking at, huh?_ I looked away quickly and kept walking with Tina, but I had the uncomfortable sense of things left unsaid.

* * *

_Quinn_

As I lay in Rachel's bed that night and jarred by the news of Finn's appearance at school, I stared, sleepless, out onto the blackness only interrupted by the dim halo of her chestnut brown hair on her pillow. And I thought about wolves who didn't act like wolves. And I thought of Roz Washington.

It had been years since the memory of Roz had crossed my mind, but Rachel's frowning account of Finn lurking where he didn't belong had brought it all back. I remembered the last day I saw her, when Roz and Sue were fighting in the kitchen, the living room, the hall, the kitchen again, growling and shouting at each other like circling wolves.

I'd had been younger, probably around 12 or 13. So Sue had seemed like a giant then, a narrow, furious god barely containing her anger. Round and round the house she went with Roz, a dark skinned young woman with a face made blotchy by rage.

"You killed two people, Roz. When are you going to face up to that?"

"Killed? Killed?" Her voice was shrill to my ears, like claws on glass. "What about me? Look at me. My life is over."

"It's not over," Sue snapped.

"You're still breathing, aren't you? You heart's still beating? I can't say the same for your two victims."

I remember shrinking back at Roz's voice… a throaty, barely understandable, shrill scream. "This is not a life!"

Sue raged at her about selfishness and responsibility, and she shot back with a string of profanity that I was shocked by; I'd never heard the words before.

"How about that guy in the basement?" Sue snapped.

I could just see Sue's back from my vantage point in the hall.

"You bit him, Roz… You've ruined his life now, too. And you killed two people. Just because they called you some nasty words. I keep waiting to see some remorse. Hell, I'll just take a guarantee that this won't happen again."

"Why would I guarantee you anything? What have you ever given me?" Snarled Roz, her shoulders hunched and twitched.

"You call yourself a pack? You're a coven. You're an abomination. You're a cult. I'll do what I want. I'll get through this life how I want." Sue's voice was terribly, terribly even. I remember being suddenly sorry for Roz then, because Sue stopped sounding angry when she was at her worst.

"Promise me this won't happen again." She looked straight at me then – no, not at me. Through me. Her mind was someplace far away, escaping the reality of her changing body. I could see a vein standing out right down the middle of her forehead, and I noticed that her fingernails were claws.

"I don't owe you anything. Go to hell."

Sue said, very quietly, "Get out of my house."

She did. She slammed the glass door so hard that the dishes in the kitchen cabinets rattled. A few moments later, I heard the door open and shut again, much quieter, as Sue went after her.

I remembered that it had been cold enough out that I was worried that Sue would change for the winter and leave me alone in the house. That fear was enough for me to slide out of the hallway into the living room, just as I heard a massive crack. Sue quietly let herself back into the house, shivering with the cold and the threat of the change, and she carefully laid a gun on the counter as though it was made of glass.

Then she noticed me, standing in the living room, arms across my chest, my fingers clutching at my biceps I still remembered the way her voice sounded when she said, "Don't touch that, Quinn."

Hollow.

Ragged.

She'd gone into her office and laid her head down on her arms for the rest of the day. At dusk, she and Ulrik had gone outside, voices low and hushed; through the window, I'd seen Ulrik get a shovel from the garage.

And now, here I was, lying in Rachel's bed and somewhere out there was Finn. Angry people didn't make good werewolves.

While Rachel was in school, I had driven by Sue's house. The driveway was empty and the windows were dark. I haven't had the heart to go inside and see how long it had been unoccupied.

Without Sue to enforce the pack's safety, who was supposed to keep Finn in line? An unwelcome sense of responsibility was starting to pinch at the back of my throat.

Sue had a cell phone, but I couldn't remember the number. No matter how long I riffled through my memories.

I pressed my face against the pillow and prayed that Finn wouldn't bite anyone, because if he became a problem, I didn't think I was strong enough to do what would have to be done.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: **Hey everyone, this is probably the last chapter I can post before going back to school. Well, I also have the next written and currently with lealbee but what I mean is I likely won't be able to keep up the post schedule which is like twice a week currently. Hopefully, I can post once a week but lealbee and I will do our best to get things done as soon as possible. Also, as another note, I'm thinking that this story will be around 19 chapters long before I start in on the next book and you guys will finally have a better idea of why the wolves shift. As an aside, I don't own anything from Glee characters to the plot, taken from Shiver-Linger-Forever series by Maggie Stiefvater. An any mistakes that have escaped both lealbee and I, I will take responsibility for. So here it is, enjoy! And please review, pm, follow and fav. I'd love to hear from y'all about how to make me a better writer and what you wanna see happen in the story.

**musicwolf89, Harley Quinn Davidson: **I'm glad you guys enjoy it :)

**logansquare2212**: I'm glad you're enjoying it. Agreed. Finn is becoming a bit of an annoyance, trust me, if I could kill him off right now, I would. But there is still story to tell with him. muahahahah.

**Priscilla20: **There's always more drama and tension. I know I probably stopped breathing for a bit when I read the series especially in the second and third books. The first one was just more of an okay... what happens next. But I will stop spoiling :P even if that was not much of a spoil. Well, define stupid... cuz Puck does have a role to play in this story but not until towards the end. But for now, just enjoy the chapter :)

**Dark Angel**: Yeah, they do. I don't know if I wrote it before but if I haven't, it would be sometime in the future. but since a lot of people are wondering about that, like why doesn't the pack just move to somewhere warmer. I'll spoil that a little and say this. Okay, so say they do move somewhere warmer, like Florida let's say. What happens when they need food? They have to go to the supermarket, which is likely air conditioned, air condition is cold and therefore you still get the temperature drop which leads to shifting. At which point you say that the wolves can probably get someone to do their shopping for them. I reply that they can't because that would mean that they would have told their secret to someone, which they wouldn't have done. Anyway, we will get to a cure and to figuring out the whole story, please be patient :) Yeah, I should have probably mentioned that Rachel's dads are a little OOC from the show but whatever :P

**Guest**: I'm glad I changed your mind on supernaturals :) I personally love fantasy and supernatural. Also, I probably shouldn't take credit because all I'm doing is adapting from the series that Maggie Stiefvater wrote. I am however, writing in all the Faberry tendencies that we know and love.

Okay enough jabbering, read on guys and girls! :)

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_Quinn_

A typical morning in the Berry household included Rachel's alarm going off at six in the morning, screaming electronic obscenities, for her daily elliptical work-outs followed by getting ready for school which included a shower, picking an animal sweater matched with a short skirt and knee highs and hair and make-up. This morning when the alarm went off, I instantly shot straight up into the air, heart pounding just as I had the day before. My head was stuffed full of dreams: wolves and humans and blood smeared on lips.

"Ummmm," Rachel mumbled, completely undeterred, and pulled up the sheets up to her neck. "Turn that off, would you? I'm getting up. On second thought, I'll … be up… in a second."

She rolled over, her chestnut hair barely visible above the edge of the blanket, and sank into the bed as if she had grown into the mattress.

And that was it.

She had fallen asleep and I was left awake.

I leaned back against her headboard and let her lie by my side, warm and dreaming for a few minutes more.

Stroking her hair with careful fingers, I traced a line from her forehead to around her ear then down to just the top of her long neck where her hair stopped being proper hair and was instead little baby fluffs that went every which way.

They were fascinating, these soft feathers that would grow up to be her hair. I was incredibly tempted to bend down and bite them ever so softly to wake her up, kiss her and make her late for school; but I couldn't stop thinking about Finn and Roz and people who make bad werewolves.

If I went to school, would I still be able to follow Finn's trail with my weaker sense of smell?

"Rachel," I whispered, "Wake up."

She made a soft noise that, roughly translated, meant _piss off_ in sleep language.

"Time to wake up or else you'll keep complaining like you did yesterday. You know, about being off all day because you missed your hour of using the elliptical?" I teased before sticking my finger in her ear.

Rachel squealed then smacked me. She was up.

Our mornings together were beginning to have the comfort of routine.

While Rachel – still dogged by sleep – stumbled towards the elliptical, I would put a bagel in the toaster for each of us and tried to convince the coffeemaker object to do something that sounded like making coffee.

I would then head to the shower and bathroom to quickly make myself presentable while she finished on the elliptical at which point she would putter around and head into the shower. I would be treated to Rachel's shower singing which was exceptional while I pulled on jeans and checked Rachel's closet for some of her less argyle-y tops.

But today, something went off course. _**  
**_

I heard my breathing stop rather than feeling it.

Photographs nestled amongst her neatly folded socks; pictures of the wolves, of_ us_.

Carefully, I lifted the stack out of the drawer and retreated back to the bed. Turning my back to the door as if I was doing something illicit, I paged through the pictures with slow fingers. There was something fascinating about seeing these images with my human eyes.

Some of the wolves I could attach human names to—the older wolves who had always changed before me; _Sue_, big bulky, and blue-grey; _Russell_, black and clean-looking; _Judy_, blonde and green eyes; _Santana_, black with dark piercing eyes; _Brittany_, nearly white fur who has swirling blue eyes; _Ulrik_, brownish-grey; _Jacob_, with his notched ear, crazy fur and running eye.

I sighed. Though, I didn't know why.

The door behind me opened, letting in a gust of steam that smelled like Rachel's soap, strawberries and vanilla.

Rachel stepped behind me and rested her head on my shoulder; I breathed in the scent of her.

"Looking at yourself?" she asked.

My fingers that were flicking between the photos mere seconds ago froze. "I'm in here?"

Rachel came round the side of the bed and sat down facing me. "Of course. Most of them are of you… You don't recognize yourself? Oh. Of course you wouldn't. Tell me who's who."

Slower, I paged through the images again as she shifted to sit next to me as the bed groaned with her movements. "That's Sue. She's always taken care of the new wolves."

Though there'd only been two newly made wolves since me—Roz and the wolf that she'd created, Bree. The fact was, I wasn't used to younger newcomers. Our pack usually grew by other, older wolves finding us, not by the addition of savagely born newbies like Finn.

"Sue's like my parent. She was more than just my cheerleading coach."

It sounded weird to say it like that, even if it was true. I'd never had to explain it to anyone before. She had been the one to take me under her wing after I had escaped from my house, after my mom tried to kill me the second time. And, she was the one who carefully glued the fragments of my sanity back together.

"I could tell how you felt about her," Rachel said, and she sounded surprised at her own intuition. "Your voice is different whenever you talk about her."

"It is?" Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Different how?"

She shrugged, looking a little shy. "I don't know. Proud, I guess. I think it's sweet. Who's that?" she inquired with an adorable tilt of her head as she pointed at the black wolf I knew so well.

"Santana," I answered her question. "I told you about her before," I added as Rachel watched my face.

The memory of the last time Santana and I had seen each other made my guts twist uncomfortably. "She and I don't see things the same way. She thinks being a wolf is a gift."

Beside me, Rachel nodded, and I was grateful to leave it at that.

I flipped through the next few photographs, more of Santana and Sue, until I paused at Russell's black form. "That's Russell. He's our pack leader when we're wolves. Because of my birthright, I am next in line of becoming the Alpha. That's Ulrik next to him." I pointed to the brown-grey wolf beside Russell. "Ulrik's like a crazy uncle, sort of. A German one. He swears a lot."

"Sounds great."

"He's a lot of fun."

Actually, I should've said _was_ a lot of fun. I didn't know if this had been his last year, or if he might still have another summer in him. I remembered his laugh, like a flock of crows taking off, and the way he held on to his German accent, like he couldn't be Ulrik without it.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, frowning at me.

I shook my head, staring at the wolves in the photographs, so clearly animals when seen through my human eyes. My family. Me. My future. Somehow, the photographs blurred a line I wasn't ready to cross yet.

I realized Rachel had her arm around my shoulder with her cheek leaning against mine, comforting me even though she couldn't possibly understand.

"I wish you could've met them," I stated. Of course I meant when everybody was human. "Except for Santana, she would probably make fun of you. But when she's with Brittany, she's a whole other person. And she's the only one who may understand me. She may act all big and protective but she protects her family fiercely, and Brittany and I became her family when her parents kicked her out. She had always protected us. She must have thought you were going to do something to me." I took a breath.

"Then, there are my parents. My dad had always been good to me; I was a daddy's girl since I was born. The only problem was that Fran was the first born. My dad wanted me to be protected and he didn't want me to have to become a wolf like him. He didn't want me to be cursed. And what my father wanted, my mother did too. But when Fran left and they found out about my sexuality, they went into this state. It was like they were a wolf wearing human skin. I'm not saying what they did was right… I'm saying that they didn't know what they were doing."

I paused to get a hold of myself.

After a deep breath, I continued, "As soon as it happened and I began to heal because of the wolf toxin, my mom and dad snapped out of it and they apologized profusely for what happened. But I couldn't forgive them. They were, after all, my parents. They were supposed to protect me, to love me, to care for me no matter what I did. I ended up leaving and bouncing among Brittany's, Santana's and Sue's houses. This was before Britt and San came out… And when they finally did, we ended up at Sue's house. My mom reached out after a while and we sometimes went to stay in my house. But it was never quite the place where I grew up again. I was angry so I chopped off my long blond hair, got it dyed, and had piercings and tattoos. Then I got pregnant and my mom attacked me again. I left right away. I didn't even listen to her apologies. But again, it was like she got into this state. I headed south for a while, got people to go into stores to buy food and stuff for me because I didn't want to shift in the air conditioned stores."

Her hand found mine and she intertwined them. She gave our connected body parts a squeeze and I smiled gratefully at her. "As soon as I gave birth, I gave her up for adoption. I figured since I was human when I gave birth, the time she got conceived and I had never shifted the entire duration of the pregnancy, she wouldn't have the wolf toxin in her. I came back and eventually I got to where I am today."

I stopped there. A part of me just didn't know how to explain to her what an enormous part of me they were… their voices and faces as humans, and their scents and forms as wolves. How lost I felt now, the only one wearing human skin.

She must have picked up on my nervousness since she steered the topic away by asking, "What was her name?"

"Beth. She is, and always will, be my little angel." I must have grimaced. After all, I would never be able to know and be a part of Beth's life.

Again, Rachel picked up on this and said, "Tell me something about them. The wolves," her voice was muffled as she nuzzled my neck.

I let my mind flit over memories. "Sue taught me how to hunt when I was twelve. I hated it."

My mind flashed back to the time when I stood in Sue's living room, staring out at the first ice-covered tree branches of the winter that were brilliant and winking in the morning sun. The backyard seemed like a dangerous and alien planet.

"Why did you hate it?" Rachel's curious voice cut through my thoughts. I glanced at her. She gave me a sheepish grin and amended her previous statement with an, "I mean I would hate it being vegan and all but…"

"I didn't like the sight of blood. I didn't like hurting things. I was twelve. I was the spoiled, innocent younger child."

In my memories, I seemed small, skinny to the point that you could see the individual ribs on my body and innocent. I had spent all of the previous summer letting myself believe that this winter with Sue would be different. That I wouldn't change, and that I'd go on eating the eggs and bacon Sue cooked for me forever.

But as the nights grew colder and even short trips outside made my muscles shake, I knew the time was coming soon when I wouldn't be able to avoid the change. And that Sue wouldn't be around to cook much longer. But that didn't mean I would go willingly.

"Why hunt, then?" asked Rachel, ever logical. "Why not just leave food out for yourselves?"

"Ha. I asked Sue that same question, and Ulrik said, '_Ja, and the raccoons and possums, too?'_"

Rachel laughed, unduly delighted by my lousy impression of Ulrik's accent. I felt a rush of warmth on my cheeks; it felt good to talk to her about the pack. I loved the glow in her eyes, the curious quirk to her mouth – she knew what I was and she wanted to know more.

But that didn't mean it was right to tell her – someone outside the pack.

Sue had always said, "_The only people we have to protect us are us."_

Then again, Sue didn't know Rachel. And Rachel wasn't only human. She may not have changed, but she had been bitten. She was wolf on the inside. She had to be.

"So what happened?" Rachel inquired, "What did you hunt?"

"Bunnies, of course," I replied almost instantaneously. "Sue took me out while Ulrik waited in a van to collect me afterward. In case I was unstable enough to change back."

I couldn't forget how Sue had stopped me by the door before we went out, bending double so she could look me in the face. I was motionless, trying not to think about changing bodies and snapping a rabbit's neck between my teeth; about saying good-bye to Sue for the winter.

She had taken my thin shoulder in her hand and gently said, "Quinn, I'm sorry. Don't be scared."

Sue had always been really rough on everyone around her, but she had always spoken to me as if I was her child. She said it was because I reminded her of a younger version of her.

I hadn't said anything back then. All I could think about was that it was cold, and Sue wouldn't change back after the hunt. After that, I would have no one who knew how to cook my bacon and eggs right.

Sue had always cooked the perfect breakfast. And more than that, Sue kept me feel human. She made me feel so… _Quinn_. Back then, with the scars on my wrists so fresh, I had been so dangerously close to fracturing into something that was neither human nor wolf.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel asked softly. "You stopped talking."

I looked up; I hadn't realized I'd looked away from her. But I provided her with an answer, nonetheless. "Changing."

Rachel's chin pressed into my shoulder as she looked into my face; her voice was hesitant. She asked me a question she had asked me before. "Does it hurt?"

I thought about the slow, agonizing process of the change; the bending of each and every muscle, the bulging of the skin, and the grinding of bones.

The adults had always tried to hide their shifts from me, wanting to protect Santana, Brittany and me. But it wasn't seeing them change that scared me – the sight only made me pity them, since even Sue groaned with the pain of it.

It was changing my own self that terrified me, even now. Forgetting what made me Quinn.

I was a bad liar, so I didn't bother doing so. "Yes."

"It kinda makes me sad to think of you having to do that as a little kid," Rachel declared. She was frowning at me, blinking her now shiny and watery expressive eyes. "Actually, it bothers me a lot. Poor little Quinn."

She cupped my cheek with a hand causing me to lean into her touch.

I remembered being so proud that I hadn't cried while I changed that time. Unlike when I was younger where my parents had watched me, eyes round with horror at what they had done to me. I remembered Sue the wolf, bounding away and leading me into the woods. And I remembered the warm, bitter sensation of my first kill on my muzzle.

I had changed back again. Ulrik who was bundled up in a coat, retrieved me and it was in the van on the way home that loneliness hit me.

I was alone. Sue wouldn't be human again that year. Now, it was like I was twelve years old all over again: _alone_ and newly _scarred_.

My chest ached and it felt as if my breath had been squeezed out of my lungs.

"Show me what I look like," I requested Rachel, tilting the photos to her. "Please."

I let her take the stack from my hand and watched her face light up as she flipped through the pictures, looking for one in particular.

"There. That one's my favourite of you."

I looked at the photo she had handed me; a still wolf looked back at me, wearing my hazel eyes of swirling greens and golds as it watched on from the woods, the sunlight touching the edges of its fur.

I looked and scrutinized, waiting for it to mean something. Waiting for even a fraction of prickling recognition... It seemed unfair that the other wolves' identities were so clear to me in their photographs, but that mine was hidden.

What was it in this photo, in that wolf, that made Rachel's eyes light up? What if it wasn't me? What if she was in love with some other wolf and she only thought it was me? How would I ever know?

Rachel was oblivious to my doubts and misread my silence for fascination. She unfolded her legs then stood up, facing me before running a hand through my hair. She lifted her palm to her nose, inhaling deeply. "You know, you still smell like you do when you're a wolf."

And just like that, she'd said probably the perfect words that have the ability to make me feel better.

I handed her the photo on her way out.

Rachel stopped near the door, dimly silhouetted by the dull gray morning light, and looked back at me. Her eyes boring through my own before dragging them to my mouth and down my hands, in a way that made something inside me knot then unknot unbearably.

She looked like an angel and I felt sorrow in my belly. I didn't think I belonged here in her world. Here was a girl who is stuck between two lives, all the while dragging the dangers of the wolves with me. But whenever she says my name, waiting for me to follow, I knew I'd do anything to stay with her.

I spent too long, after dropping Rachel off, circling the parking lot. I was frustrated with Finn, frustrated with the rain, frustrated with the limitations of my human body. To put it simply, I was frustrated beyond belief.

I could smell that a wolf had been there – just a faint, musky trace of wolf odour – but I couldn't pinpoint a direction or even say for sure that it had been Finn. It was like being blind.

I finally gave up, and after sitting in the car for several minutes, I decided to just give in to the pull of Sue's house. I couldn't think of anywhere else in particular to start a search for Finn, but the woods behind the house were a logical place to find wolves in general.

With that thought in mind, I headed back towards my old summer home. I didn't know if Sue had been a human at all this year; I couldn't even clearly recall my own summer months. Memories blurred into each other until they became a composite of seasons and scents, their origins obscured.

Sue had been shifting for more years than I had, so it seemed unlikely that she'd been human this year when I hadn't. But it also felt like I should have had more years of changing back and forth than this. I hadn't been shifting for that long.

Where had my summers gone?

I wanted Sue. I wanted her guidance. I wanted to know why the gunshot had made me human. I wanted to know how long I had with Rachel. I wanted to know if this was the end.

"_You're the best of them."_—She had once told me. And I still remembered the way her face looked when she said it. Instead of her normal smirk, she looked trustworthy and solid, like an anchor in a churning sea.

I had known what she meant: the most _human_ of the pack. That was after they'd pulled Rachel from her tire swing.

But when I drove up to the house, it was still empty and dark, and my hopes dissipated. It occurred to me that all of the other wolves must've already shifted for the winter; there weren't many young wolves left, except for Finn now.

The mailbox was stuffed with envelopes and slips from the post office advising Sue to pick up more at the main office. I took all of it out and put it in Rachel's car. I had a key for her post office box but I'd get it later.

I refused to think I wouldn't see Sue again. But the fact remained that if Sue wasn't around, Finn hadn't been shown the ropes. And someone had to get him away from the school and civilization until he stopped the unpredictable shifting that came with being a new wolf.

His death had done enough damage to the pack. I wasn't going to let him expose us. Either through shifting in public or through biting someone. Since Finn had already paid a visit to the school, I decided to operate under the assumption that he had tried going home as well, and so I headed over towards the Hudson-Hummel's place.

It wasn't any secret where they lived because of the public's knowledge of Burt being a Congressman as well as his work as Lima's only car repair shop. I didn't think anybody would be home at this time of the day as both Carol and Burt had work, but I parked Rachel's Mazda about a half mile away just in case and cut through the pine woods on foot.

Sure enough, the house was empty and it towered over me like a massive structure out from an old folktale.

A quick poking around the doors turned up the unmistakable odour of wolf. I couldn't tell whether he'd gotten inside already, or if like me, he'd come while everyone was away and returned to the woods already.

Remembering how vulnerable I was in my human form, I whirled around and sniffed the air, scanning the surrounding pines for signs of life.

Nothing. Or at least nothing close enough that my human senses could pick it up.

In the cause of thoroughness, I broke into the house to see whether Finn was there. I thanked Sue's paranoia; she taught me all kinds of skills especially when she used to be my cheerleading coach.

Inside, I scented the air again. I didn't smell anything so I carefully relocked the door, retraced my steps and headed to Noah Puckerman's house. Rachel had told me Finn and Noah were like brothers so I figured that would be the next logical step.

I once again left the car half a mile away and broke into the house before scenting the air. I thought I smelled wolf, but it was faint and somewhat stale. I wasn't sure why Finn would smell that way, but I followed the scent through the house. My path led to a set of doors; I felt sure the trail was leading to the other side.

Carefully, I pushed them open before I inhaled sharply.

The room before me was filled to the brim with animals; stuffed ones… and they were not the cuddly kind. It had the feel of a museum exhibit: Animals of North America, or some sort of shrine of death.

I shuddered.

In the half-light that filtered through the windows, it seemed as though there were enough animals to populate Noah's ark; here was a fox, stiffly holding a stuffed quail in its mouth; there, a black bear, rising above me with claws outstretched; a lynx creeping eternally along a log; and a polar bear complete with stuffed fish in his paws.

Could you even stuff a fish? I hadn't ever considered it. And then, amidst a herd of deer that came from all shapes and sizes, I saw the source of the smell I had detected earlier—a wolf staring over its shoulder at me with its teeth bared as their glass eyes looked menacing.

I walked towards it, reaching out to touch its brittle fur. Under my fingers, a stale smell blossomed, releasing secrets in my nostrils, and I recognized the unique scent of my woods. I curled my fingers into a fist, stepping back from the wolf with crawling skin.

One of us… But, maybe not. Maybe just a wolf. Except I'd never met a normal wolf in our woods before.

"Who were you?" I whispered. But the only common feature between a werewolf's two forms – the eyes – had long since been gouged out in favour of a pair of glass ones. I wondered whether Bree, riddled with bullets the night I was shot, would join this wolf in his macabre menagerie.

The thought twisted my stomach.

I glanced around the hall once more and retreated towards the front door. Every bit of animal still left in me was screaming to get away from the dull odour of death that filled the hall.

Finn wasn't here so I didn't have any other reason to stay.

* * *

_Rachel_

"Good morning."

Leroy glanced at me as he poured coffee in a travel mug. He was fully dressed to head to the hospital for his shift. "I have to meet Dr. Jones at the hospital at eight-thirty. We have a patient to work on together."

I blinked a few times, eyes bleary. My whole body felt sticky and slow from sleep. I had been talking to Quinn until early in the morning and couldn't get up for my elliptical workout which made my morning a little off-kilter. "Don't talk to me yet. I'm not awake."

Through my fog, I felt a twinge of guilt for not being friendlier; I hadn't really seen him for days, much less properly spoken with him. Quinn and I had spent last night talking about the strange room of stuffed animals at Noah's and wondered, with the constant irritation of a scratchy argyle sweater, where Finn was going to make his next appearance.

This ordinary morning with Dad felt like an abrupt return to my pre-Quinn life. Dad gestured at me with the coffeepot. "Want some of this?"

I cupped my hands and held them toward him. "Just pour it in there. I'll splash some on my face. Where's Daddy?"

I didn't hear him crashing around upstairs. Daddy's getting ready to leave the house normally required a lot of indiscriminate banging and shoe-scraping noises from the bedroom. "Some gallery in Pennsylvania."

"Why'd he leave so early? It's practically yesterday?"

My dad looked at me funny before he nodded as if he figured it out. "Honey, you missed your work out this morning again? Is that why you're acting particularly like a diva this morning?"

I nodded, annoyed. I cleared my throat. "Dad. Focus. Get me a coffee mug and fill it or I'll die. And I'm not cleaning up my body if I do."

Dad, watching the TV that blared some morning talk show with the show's guest who was dressed in khaki standing with baby animals of all kinds in boxes and cages that reminded me of that room in Noah's house, headed to the cabinet and feels around for a mug. His fingers found my favourite – a baby pink mug with a gold star that one of Hiram's friends had made – before he pushed it and the coffeepot across the counter to me. The steam rushed into my face as I poured.

"So, Rachel, how's school?" I asked myself.

Dad nodded, eyes on the baby koala now struggling in the guest's arms.

"Oh, it's fine," I continued, and Dad made a mumbling noise of agreement. I added, "Nothing special, aside from the load of pandas they brought in, and the teachers abandoning us to cannibalistic savages – " I paused to see if I'd caught his attention yet, then pressed on. "The whole building caught fire, and then I failed drama, and then it was all about sex, sex, sex, and _sex_."

Dad's eyes abruptly focused. He turned to me and frowned. "What did you say they were teaching you in school?"

Well, at least he'd caught more of the beginning than I'd given him credit for. "Nothing interesting. We're writing short stories for English. They're hateful. I have absolutely no talent for writing fiction."

"Fictions about sex?" he asked incredulously.

I shook my head. "Go to work, Dad. You're going to be late."

Dad scratched his chin; he'd missed a hair shaving. "That reminds me. I need to take that cleaner back to Burt. Have you seen it?"

"You need to take a what _cleaner_ back to whom?"

"The gun cleaner… I think I put it on the counter. Or maybe under it—" He crouched and began to rummage in the cabinet under the sink.

I frowned at him. "Why did you have gun cleaner?"

He gestured toward his study. "For the gun," was his simple reply.

Little warning bells were going off in my head. I knew my dad had a rifle; it hung on the wall in his study. But I couldn't remember him ever cleaning it before. You cleaned guns after you'd used them, right?

"Why were you borrowing a cleaner?"

"Burt loaned it to me to clean my rifle after we were out. I know I should clean it more, but I don't think about it when I'm not using it."

"Burt Hummel?" I asked cautiously.

He withdrew his head from the cabinet with a bottle in hand. "Yes."

"You went shooting with Burt Hummel? That was you the other day?"

My cheeks were beginning to feel hot. I prayed for him to say no.

Dad gave me a look. The sort that was usually followed by him saying something like '_Rachel, you're usually so reasonable.'_

"Something had to be done, Rachel," he reasoned.

"You were part of that hunting party? The one that went after the wolves?" I demanded. "I can't believe you!"

The image of Dad creeping through the trees with the rifle in hand while the wolves fled before him was suddenly too strong. I just had to stop.

"Rachel, I did it for you." He said.

My voice came out very low. "Did you shoot any of them?"

Dad seemed to realize that the question was important. "Warning shots," he said.

I didn't know if was true or not, but I didn't want to talk to him anymore. I shook my head and turned away.

"Don't pout," Dad said. He kissed my cheek – I remained motionless as he did – and gathered up his coffee and briefcase. "Be good. See you later."

Standing in the kitchen, hands cupped around the pink mug, I listened as Dad's Taurus rumbled to life in the driveway and then faded slowly away. After he'd gone, the house settled into its familiar silence, both comforting and depressing.

It could've been any other morning, just the quiet and the coffee in my hands – but it wasn't. Dad's voice – _warning shots_ – still hung in the air. He knew how I felt about the wolves, and he'd gone behind my back and made plans with Burt Hummel, anyway.

The betrayal stung.

A soft noise from the doorway caught my attention. Quinn stood in the hallway, her hair wet and wavy from a shower as her eyes focused on me. There was a question written on her face, but I didn't say anything.

I was wondering what my two dads would do if they knew about Quinn.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

So today was the first day back to school for me. 5.5 hours total if all my classes run to the allotted times, at least I found out that I basically have Fridays off because the Prof says labs and tutorials for that class are just for if you need help. More time to write and finish work for me :) Anyway, I know I have a lot more to go still, given that this is the first of the series and I'm not even really halfway through yet, but would anyone be interested in a sort of book adaptation again? And if so, let me know kinda what books you may be interested in. I don't have very many books with me at present but I think I wouldn't be finishing the series any time soon. So I, for some odd reason, was curious about it, I was toying with the idea of doing the divergent-insurgent-allegiant series, I was thinking Pezberry though. However, Faberry would work just as well. Let me know via pm or just review. Anyway, I don't own the characters because they belong to Glee and Fox nor the plot which belongs to Maggie Stiefvater as I adapted the story from the book Shiver that she wrote. As usual, thanks go to lealbee for dealing with my him/her confusions, tense issues and just prettying all my writing up for you guys. If any mistakes escaped both of us, I will take responsibility for them. Enjoy your slightly angsty chapter (I kept it happy ish for far too long :P) and please review, fav, follow, pm, whatever. Let me know of things to improve or just in general how you are liking the story and stuff or if you just wanna chat, I'm cool with that too.

Wow, this update came really soon, I was just looking at the reviews to respond to you guys and I was like o.o Big hand to lealbee for getting it done so fast.

**RachelBarbaraBerry: **She might not be comfortable for a long time. Like it's because shifting is so "uncontrollable" to her at this point, like if she gets cold, she would be in danger of shifting. I think you'll kinda see it in this chapter.

**Polux, Harley Quinn Davidson, Dark Angel:** Enjoy your quick update and the new chapter.

Just again, reminding you that lealbee and I are now back to school so updates will likely be taking longer. I'm only halfway done the next chapter. I hope to have it to lealbee by the end of the week though. Well, I'll stop yammering and let you guys read. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_Rachel_

I spent the better part of the morning and afternoon slogging through my English homework while Quinn stretched on the couch with a novel in hand. It was a vague sort of torture to be in the same room with her but separated quite effectively by an English textbook.

After several hours only punctuated by a brief lunch break, I couldn't take it anymore.

"I feel like I'm wasting our time together," I confessed.

Quinn didn't answer, and I realized she hadn't heard me. I repeated my statement. She blinked a few times, eyes slowly focusing on me as she returned from whatever world she'd been in.

She said, "I'm happy just to be here with you. That's enough."

I studied her face for a long moment, trying to decide if she really meant it.

Noting her page number, Quinn folded the novel shut with careful fingers and asked, "Do you want to go somewhere? If you've gotten enough done, we can go poke around Sue's house… To see if Finn's made his way back over there or something."

I liked the idea. Ever since Finn's appearance at school, I'd felt uneasy about where and how he might turn up next.

"Do you think he'll be there?"

"I don't know. The new wolves always seemed to find their way there, and that's where the pack tends to live, in that stretch of the woods behind the house," Quinn answered. "It be nice to think he'd finally found his way to the pack."

Her face looked worried then, but she stopped short of saying why.

I knew why I wanted Finn to fit in with the pack – I didn't want anyone exposing the wolves for what they were and while he had kind of been a jerk to me while we were together, I still cared for him a little bit because I felt he acted the way he did because he never had a true father figure in his life besides Mr. Shue.

Let's be honest, Mr. Shue did seem to have ulterior motives in his actions towards Finn. They seemed to have a strange relationship, to say the least. I dreaded telling Quinn about my past relationship to Finn but now seemed like the time to do it, instead of letting her find out eventually.

I turned to her then grabbed her hand. "I have something to tell you, Quinn. Finn… He used to be my boyfriend. But remember how I told you that I get bullied at school?"

Her face changed from her thinking face to one of surprise to one of annoyance and rage. She nodded.

"I dated him not because I loved him. But because he was a popular guy who paid attention to me. He was the only popular person to pay attention to me. I wanted the attention from him, I wanted to feel accepted but I realized that he didn't actually care for me. He didn't love me and he didn't change anything about the school. I mean, he forgot all our dates, he never stopped the slushying and he wasn't really a good kisser at all, all slobber and smothering. He gave me terrible gifts! One of which was a pig that he gave last year and never even remembered the fact that I am a vegetarian. I was going to break up with him when I had found out that he had been attacked by the wolves. You, you are all I want now, it doesn't matter that he was attacked. I would have given him up anyway."

She faced me, all the anger and rage from before erased and replaced only with love and understanding. She said as her brow furrowed, "It's okay. I get that you were lonely before I came along. I'm just concerned, I feel like I'm missing something bigger."

In the golden afternoon light, I drove the Mazda to Sue's house while Quinn navigated. We had to follow the winding road around the woods for a good thirty-five minutes to get to the house. I hadn't realized how far the woods stretched until we drove all the way around it. I guess it made sense; how could you hide an entire pack of wolves without hundreds of unpopulated acres to help?

I pulled the Mazda into the driveway, squinting up at the brick façade. The dark windows looked like closed eyes; the house was overwhelmingly empty.

When Quinn cracked her door open, the sweet smell of the pines that stood guard around the yard filled my nostrils.

I commented, "Nice house." Quinn nodded.

I stared at the tall windows glinting in the afternoon sun. A brick house of this size could easily look imposing, but there was an atmosphere about the property that seemed disarming – maybe the spiraling, unevenly cut hedges out front or the weathered bird feeder that looked as if it had grown out of the lawn. It was a _comfortable _sort of place. It looked like the sort of place that would create a girl like Quinn.

I inquired, "How did Sue get it?"

She frowned. "The house? She used to be a lawyer for rich old guys, so she's got money. She bought it for the pack."

"That's awfully generous of her," I said. I shut the car door. "_Crap."_

Quinn leaned over the hood of the Mazda toward me.

"What?"

"I just locked the keys in the car. My brain was on autopilot."

Quinn shrugged dismissively. "Sue's got a slim-jim in the house. We can get it when we get back from the woods."

"A slim-jim? How intriguing," I said, grinning at her. "I like a girl with hidden depths."

"Excuse me? I am a woman, not a girl!" She joked but then turned serious. "All joking aside, you have one."

She jerked her head toward the trees in the backyard. "Are you ready to head in?"

The idea was both compelling and terrifying. I hadn't been in the woods since the night of the hunt, and before that, the evening I'd seen Finn pinned by the other wolves. It seemed like my memories of these woods were of violence.

I realized Quinn was holding her hand out toward me. "Are you afraid?"

I wondered if there was a way to take her hand without admitting my fear. Not fear, really; just some emotion that crawled along my skin and lifted the hairs on my arms. It was cool weather, not the barren dead of winter. Plenty of food for the wolves without them having to attack us. _Wolves are shy creatures_.

Quinn took my hand; her grip was firm and her skin warm against mine in the cool autumn air. Her eyes studied me, large and luminescent in the afternoon glow, and for a moment I was caught up in her gaze, remembering those eyes studying me from a wolf's face.

"We don't have to look for him now," she said.

"I want to go."

It was true. Part of me wanted to see where Quinn lived in these cold months, when she wasn't lingering at the edge of our yard. And part of me, the part that ached with loss when the pack howled at night, was begging to follow that faint scent of the pack into the woods. All of that outweighed any bit of me that was anxious. To prove my willingness, I headed towards the backyard, nearing the edge of the woods whilst still holding Quinn's hand.

"They'll stay away from us," Quinn stated, as if she still had to convince me. "Finn's the only one who would approach us."

I looked over at her with a crooked eyebrow, trying to mirror Quinn's famous eyebrow raise with mixed results.

"Yeah, about that. He's not going to come at us all slathering and horror movie, is he?"

"He probably won't remember you as his girlfriend; he won't even remember who you are. Being a werewolf doesn't make you a monster, it just takes away your inhibitions," Quinn said. "Did he slather a lot when he was in school?"

Like the rest of the school, I had heard the story about when Finn had found out about his mom getting together with Burt Hummel. He had nearly hit Kurt when he had found out about Kurt's role in the parent's meeting and why Kurt got Burt and Carol to meet. I had dismissed it as gossip until I had heard from Kurt. Finn was a homophobe and I knew that Finn wouldn't need a transformation to become a monster. I made a face. "He slathered a bit, yeah."

"If it makes you feel any better," Quinn said, "I don't think he's here. But I still hope he is. I would like to hit him for not treating you right."

After that, we went into the woods.

This was a different sort of forest from the one that bordered my dads' yard. These trees were pressed tightly together, the underbrush crammed between the trunks as if holding them upright. Brambles caught on my jeans, and Quinn kept stopping to pick burrs off our ankles.

We saw no sign of Finn, or any of the wolves, during our slow progress. In truth, I didn't think Quinn was doing a very good job of scanning the woods around us. I made a big show of looking around so I could pretend I didn't notice her glancing at me every few seconds. It didn't take me long to get a headful of burrs, tugging my hairs painfully as they worked their way into knots. Quinn stopped me to pick at the burrs.

"It gets better," she promised.

It was sweet that she thought I would get put out enough to go back to the car. As if I had anything better to do than feel her carefully worry the barbs of the burrs out of my hair.

"I'm not worried about that," I assured her. "I'm just thinking we'd never know if there was anyone else here. The woods go on forever."

Quinn ran her fingers through my hair as if she was checking for more burrs, though I knew they were all gone, and she probably did, too. She paused, smiling at me, and then inhaled deeply.

"Doesn't smell like we're alone." She looked at me, and I knew she was waiting for me to verify – to admit that if I tried, I could smell the scent of the pack's hidden life all around us.

Instead, I reached for her hand again. "Lead the way, bloodhound."

Quinn's expression turned a bit wistful but she led me through the underbrush, up a gradual hill.

As she promised, it got better. The thorns thinned out and the trees grew taller and straighter, their branches not beginning until a few feet over our heads. The white, peel bark of the birches looked buttery in the long, slanting afternoon light, and their leaves were a delicate gold.

I turned to Quinn, and her eyes reflected the same brilliant gold back at me. I stopped in my tracks. It was my woods. The golden woods I'd always imagined running away to, other than Broadway, of course.

Quinn, watching my face, dropped her hand out of mine and stepped back to look at me. "Home," she said.

I think she was waiting for me to say something. Or maybe she wasn't waiting for me to say something. Maybe she saw it in my face. I didn't have anything to say – I just looked around at the shimmering light and the leaves hanging on the branches like feathers.

"Hey." Quinn caught my arm, looking at my face sideways, as if searching for tears. "You look sad."

I turned in a slow circle; the air seemed dapples and vibrant around me. I said, "I used to always imagine coming here, when I was younger. I mean, aside from one day becoming a star on Broadway and getting my EGOT, I just can't figure out how I would've seen a place like this."

I probably wasn't making any sense, but I kept talking, trying to reason it out. "The woods behind my house don't look like this. No birches. No yellow leaves. I don't know how I would recognize it."

"Maybe someone told you about it."

"I think I would remember someone telling me every detail about this part of the woods, down to the colour of the glittering air. I don't even know how someone could've told me all that."

Quinn said, "I told you. Wolves have funny ways of communicating. Showing each other pictures when they're close to one another."

I turned back to where she was standing, a dark blot against the light, and gave her a look. "You aren't going to stop, are you?"

Quinn just gazed at me steadily, the silent lupine stare that I knew so well – sad and intent.

"Why do you keep bringing it back up?" I asked.

"You were bitten." She walked in a slow circle around me, scuffing up leaves with her foot, glancing at me underneath her light eyebrows, one quirked in her typical fashion.

"So?"

"So… it's about who you are. It's about you being one of us. You couldn't have recognized this place if you weren't a wolf, too, Rachel. Only one of us would have been able to see what I showed you." Her voice was so serious, her hazel eyes intense. "I couldn't – I couldn't even talk to you right now if you weren't like us. _We_ aren't supposed to talk about who we are with regular people. It's not as if we have a ton of rules to live by, but Sue told me that's one rule we just don't break."

That didn't make sense to me. "Why not?"

Quinn didn't say anything, but her fingers touch her neck where she'd been shot; as she did, I saw the pale, shiny scars on her wrist. It seemed wrong for someone as gentle as Quinn to have to wear evidence of human violence.

I shivered in the growing chill of the afternoon.

Quinn's voice was soft. "Sue's told me stories. People kill us in all kinds of awful ways. We die in labs and we get shot and we get poisoned. It might be science that changes us, Rachel, but all people see is magic. I believe Sue. We can't tell people who aren't like us."

I said, "I don't change, Quinn. I'm not really like you." Disappointment stuck a lump in my throat that I couldn't swallow.

She didn't answer. We stood together in the wood for a long moment before she sighed and spoke again. "After you were bitten, I knew what would happen. I waited for you to change, every night, so I could bring you back and keep you from getting hurt."

A chilly gust of wind lifted her hair and sent a shower of golden leaves glimmering down around her. She spread out her arms, letting them fall into her hands. She looked like a dark angel in an eternal autumn wood. "Did you know you get one happy day for everyone you catch?"

I didn't know what she meant, even after she opened her fist to show me the quivering leaves crumpled in her palm.

"One happy day for every falling leaf you catch." Quinn's voice was low.

I watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "How long did you wait?"

It would've been unbearably romantic if she'd had the courage to look into my face and say it, but instead, she dropped her eyes to the ground and scuffed her boot in the leaves – countless possibilities for happy days – on the ground.

"I haven't stopped."

And I should have said something romantic, too, but I didn't have the courage, either. So instead, I chew my lip, shyly watched the way she was doing the exact same thing, and said, "That must have been very boring."

Quinn laughed; a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well."

"And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased.

Quinn turned bright red. "That," she cleared her throat when her voice came out a bit high, "is so not the point of this conversation. But it was amazing when your elliptical used to be closer to the window. Or when you sing and dance around in your room."

I blush slightly and I smiled sweetly at her embarrassment before beginning to walk again then kicking up golden leaves. I heard her scuffing leaves behind me. "And what was the point of it again?"

"Forget it!" Quinn declared. "Do you like this place or not?"

I stopped in my tracks, spinning to face her.

"Hey." I pointed at her.

She raised a lone eyebrow and stopped in her tracks.

"You didn't think Finn would be here at all, did you?"

Her other brow went up to join the other.

"Did you really intend to look for him at all?"

She held her hands up as if in surrender. "What do you want me to say?"

"You were trying to see if I would recognize it, weren't you?" I took another step, closing the distance between us. I could feel the heat of her body even without touching her in the increasing cold of the day.

_"You_ told me about these woods somehow. How did you show it to me?"

"I keep trying to tell you. You won't listen because you're stubborn. It's how we speak – it's the only words we have. Just pictures. Just simple little pictures. You _have_ changed, Rachel. Just not your skin. I want you to believe me." Her hands were still raised, but she was starting to grin at me in the failing light.

"So you only brought me here to see this."

I stepped forward again, and she stepped back.

"Do you like it?"

"Under false pretenses."

Another step forward; another back. The grin widened.

"So you like it?"

"When you knew we wouldn't come across anybody else."

Her teeth flashed in her grin.

"Do you like it?"

I punched my hands into her arm.

"You know I love it. You knew I would."

I went to punch her again, and she grabbed my wrists. For a moment, we stood there like that, her looking down at me with the grin half-caught on her face, and me looking up at her: Still Life between Lovers.

It would've been the perfect moment to kiss me, but she didn't. She just looked at me and looked at me, and by the time I realized I could just as easily kiss her, I noticed that her grin was slipping away. Quinn slowly lowered my wrists and released them.

"I'm glad," she said, very quietly. My arms still hung by my sides, right where Quinn had put them.

I frown at her. "You were supposed to kiss me."

"I thought about it."

I just kept looking at the soft, sad shape of her lips, looking just like her voice sounded. I was probably staring, but I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted her to kiss me and how stupid it was to want it so badly. "Why don't you?"

She leaned over and gave me the lightest of kisses. Her lips, cool and dry, ever so polite and incredibly maddening.

"I have to get inside soon," she whispered. "It's getting cold."

For the first time, I paid attention to the icy wind that cut through my long sleeves. One of the frigid gusts hurled thousands of fallen leaves back into the air, and for a single second, I thought I smell wolf.

Quinn shuddered.

Squinting at her face in the dim light, I realized suddenly that her eyes were afraid.

* * *

_Quinn_

We didn't run back to the house. Running would mean acknowledging something that I wasn't ready to face in front of her – something that I _was_. Instead, we walked with giant strides as dried leaves and branches snapped under our feet with our breaths drowning out the other sounds of the evening. Cold snaked under my collar, tightening my skin into goose bumps.

If I didn't let go of her hand, I'd be alright. A wrong turn would lead us away from the house, but I couldn't concentrate on the trees around me. My vision flashed with jerky memories of humans shifting into wolves, hundreds of shifts over my years with the pack.

The memory of the first time I'd seen Sue shift was vivid in my mind – more real than the screaming red sunset through the trees in front of Rachel and me. I remembered the frigid white light streaming in the living room windows of Sue's house, and I remembered the shaking line of her shoulders as she braced her arms against the back of the sofa. I stood beside her, looking up, no words in my mouth.

"Take her out!" Sue shouted with her face gesturing towards the hallway but her eyes half-closed. "Ulrik, get Quinn out of here!"

Ulrik's fingers around my arm then were as tight as Rachel's fingers around my hand were now, pulling me through the woods, leading us back over the trail we'd left earlier. Night crouched in the trees, waiting to overtake us, cold and black.

But Rachel didn't look away from the sun glowing through the trees as she headed towards it.

The brilliant nimbus of the sun half blinded me, making stark silhouettes of the trees, and suddenly I was twelve again. I saw that star pattern of my old bedspread so clearly that I stumbled. My fingers clutched the fabric, balling and tearing it under my grip.

"Mama!" My voice broke on the second syllable. "Mama, I'm going to be sick!"

I was tangled on the floor in blankets and noise and puke, shaking and clawing at the floor, trying to hold on to something when my mother came into the bedroom door, a familiar silhouette.

I looked at her, my cheek resting against the floor, and I started to say her name, but no sound came out. She dropped to her knees and called out for my father and together they watched me change for the first time.

"Finally," Rachel said, tearing my brain back to the woods around us. She sounded out of breath, as if we'd been running. I guess she has, with her short legs, trying to keep up to my pace. "There it is."

I couldn't let Rachel see me change. I couldn't change now. I followed Rachel's gaze to the back of Sue's house, a flash of warm red-brown in this chilly blue evening.

And now I ran.

Two steps from the car, all my hopes of getting warm in the Mazda were crushed in the moment it took for Rachel to uselessly tug the locked door handle. Inside, the keys swung from the ignition with her effort. Rachel's face twisted with frustration.

"We'll have to try the house," she stated.

We didn't have to break into Sue's house. She always left a spare key stuck to the weather lining of the back door. I tried not to think of the car keys hanging in the Mazda's ignition; if we had them. I would've been warm again already.

My hands shook as I pulled the spare key from the lining and tried to slide it into the dead bolt. I was hurting already. _Hurry up, you idiot. Hurry up. _I just couldn't stop shaking.

Rachel carefully took the key from me, with not even a hint of fear, though she had to know what was happening, She closed one of her warm hands over my cold, shuddering ones, and with the other she shoved the key into the knob and unlocked it. _God, please let the power be on. Please let the heat be on. _Her hand on my elbow pushed me inside the dark kitchen. I couldn't shed the cold; it clung to every bit of me. My muscles began to cramp and I put my fingers over my face, shoulder hunched.

"No," Rachel said, her voice even and firm, just like she was answering a simple question. "No, come on."

She pulled me away from the door and shut it behind me. Her hand slid along the wall by the door, finding the light switches, and miraculously, the lights flickered on, coming to ugly, fluorescent life above us.

Rachel pulled on me again, dragging me farther away from the door, but I didn't want to move. I just wanted to curl in on myself and give in.

"I can't, Rachel. I can't." I didn't know if I'd said it out loud or not, but she wasn't listening to me if I had.

Instead she sat me on the floor directly on top of an air vent, and pulled off her jacket to wrap around my shoulders and over the top of my head. Then she crouched in front of me and gathered my cold hands against her little body. I shook and clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering, trying to focus on her, on being human, on getting warm.

She was saying something; I couldn't understand her. She was too loud. Everything was too loud. It smelled in here. This close, her scent, strawberries and vanilla, was exploding in my nostrils. I hurt. Everything hurt. I whined, very softly.

She leaped and ran down the hall, her hands smacking light switches as she did, and then she disappeared. I groaned and put my head down on my knees. _No, no, no, no. _I didn't even know what I was supposed to be fighting anymore. The pain? The shuddering?

She was back. Her hands were wet. She grabbed my wrists and her mouth moved, her voice ringing out, indecipherable. Sounds meant for someone else's ears.

I stared at her.

She pulled again; she was stronger than I thought she was. I mean, she's tiny but there was strength in that tiny frame.

I got to my feet; my height somehow surprised me. I shivered so violently that her jacket fell from my shoulders. The cold air hitting my neck racked me with another shudder and I nearly went to my knees.

The girl got a better grip on my arms and pulled me along, talking all the time, low, soothing sounds with an edge of iron beneath them. She pushed me into a doorway; heat emanated from inside it. God, no. No. _No._

I pulled and fought against her hold, eyes locked on the far wall of the little tiled room. A bathtub lay in front of me like a tomb. Steam rolled off the water, the heat tempting and wonderful, but every part of my body resisted.

"Quinn, don't fight me! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do."

Eyes fixed on the tub; I hooked my fingers on the edge of the door.

"Please," I whispered.

In my head, the hands held me down in the tube, hands that smelled of childhood and familiarity, of hugs and clean sheets and everything I'd ever known. They pushed me into the water. It was warm, the temperature of my body.

The voices counted together. They didn't say my name. _Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. _They were poking holes in my skin, letting what was inside get out. The water turned red in little wispy strands.

I gasped, struggled, cried. They didn't speak. The woman cried into the water as she held me down. _I'm Quinn, _I told them, holding my face above the red water. _I'm Quinn. I'm Quinn. I'm—_

"Quinn!"

The girl ripped me from the door and pushed off the wall against me; I stumbled and fell toward the tub. She shoved me as I fought to regain my balance, sending my head smacking against the wall and into the steaming water.

I lay perfectly still, sinking, water closing over my face, scalding my skin, boiling my body, drowning my shudders.

Rachel gently lifted my head above water, cradling it in her arms, one foot in the tube behind me. She was sopping wet and shivering. She eased both feet into the water and sat down so that my back was leaning against her front, both her legs rested on either side of me and her arms circled my waist.

"Quinn," she spoke with a shaky voice. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. Please forgive me. I'm sorry."

I couldn't stop shaking. My fingers gripped on the side of the tub. I wanted out. I wanted her to hold me, so I could feel safe. I wanted to forget the feeling of blood running from the scars on my wrists.

"Get me out," I whispered brokenly. "Please get me out."

"Are you warm enough?"

I couldn't answer. I was bleeding to death. I balled my hands into fists and drew them to my chest. Every caress of water over my wrists sent a new wave of shivers through me.

Her face was full of pain.

"I'm going to find the thermostat and turn the heat up. Quinn. You have to stay there until I come back with towels. I'm so sorry."

I closed my eyes. I passed a lifetime with my head held barely above water, unable to move, and then Rachel came back, holding a stack of mismatched towels.

She knelt by the tub and reached past me; I heard a gurgle behind my head. I felt myself slipping down the drain with the water in red circling swirls.

"I can't get you out if you don't help. Please, Quinn." She stared at me as if she was waiting for me to move.

The water drained away from my wrists, my shoulders, my back, until I lay in an empty tub.

Rachel laid a towel on top of me. It was very warm, as if she'd heated it somehow. I noticed that she had changed out of her wet clothes and into sweats that appeared to be mine. Then she took one of my scarred wrists in her hands and looked at me.

"You can come out now."

I looked back at her, unblinking, my legs folded up the side of the tiled wall like a giant insect.

She reached down and traced my eyebrows. "You do have really beautiful eyes."

"We get to keep them," I said.

At my voice, Rachel jolted slightly in shock, "What?"

"It's the one thing we get to keep. Our eyes stay the same." I unclenched my fists. "I was born with these eyes. I was born for this life."

As if there was no bitterness in my voice, Rachel replied, "Well, they're beautiful. Beautiful but sad…" She reached down and took my fingers, her chocolate brown doe eyes locked on mine, holding my gaze.

"Do you think you can stand up now?"

And I did. Looking at her brown eyes and nothing else, I stepped out of the tub, and she led me out of the bathroom and back into my life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Sooooo. It's been way too long since I updated and I have sent this to my beta, lealbee. But I know that she's probably busy with school (we're both university/college students) and trying to get back into the swing of things so I didn't wait for her chapter revision to post this. I just looked through it myself so if there are a whole whack of mistakes, it's all my fault and I take complete responsibility for it. When I do get the revision from her, I will be reposting likely. Also, still don't own anything, characters belong to Glee and its creators but it would be nice if they stopped botching their story lines and plot belongs to Maggie Stiefvater as I am adapting from the Shiver-Linger-Forever series. As well. I have the next chapter done, it's currently sitting in my back pocket for next week, I'll send it to lealbee but I will probably post it next Wednesday but as to why that particular day, you guys will have to wait and see. Although you can probably figure it out :P props to those who do. **

**Reviewers: I think there's only two this time but that's cool. I think they were just prompts to tell me to keep going (which I definitely will, just slower maybe than normal) and appreciation for how the story is going (I can't take all the credit as most of this is from either the creators of Glee or Maggie Stiefvater). I encourage you guys to review when you can. I'm pretty friendly. I don't think I smell or anything :P but the point is. I'd love to hear from you guys whether it'd be through reviewing or through pm. Also, if anyone here is also following Inner Passions, I am taking a break from that, it is technically my NaNoWriMo offering but I think one story is enough of a handful especially when I am working with a 5 course load and clubs and stuff. **

**Anyway, I don't think there's anything else I want you guys to know but here is the chapter. Enjoy. Review, Fav, Follow, PM, whatever suits your fancy.**

**Jan 19,2014: Beta-ed version: no big changes just a little bit here and there.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Rachel_

I couldn't keep my thoughts together. I stood in the kitchen, staring at the cabinets, which were covered with pinned-up photographs of smiling people – the pack members as humans.

Normally, I would've looked through them to find Quinn's face, but I kept seeing the broken shape of her body in the bathtub and hearing the terror in her voice. The vision of her shaking in the woods right before I realized what was happening to her replayed over and over in my head.

Saucepan. Can of soup. Bread from freezer. Spoons. Sue's kitchen was obviously stocked by someone who was familiar with a werewolf's peculiar schedule. It was full of canned goods and boxed foods with long shelf lives.

I lined up all of the ingredients for a makeshift dinner on the counter, forcing myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

In the next room, Quinn sat on the couch under a blanket, her clothing running through the wash. My jeans were still soaking, but they'd have to wait.

Turning on a burner for the soup, I tried to focus on the slick black controls, the shiny aluminum surface. But instead my mind was full of images of Quinn convulsing on the floor, eyes vacant, and the animal whimper she made as she realized that she was losing her grip on her humanity.

My hands shook as I tipped the soup from the can to the saucepan.

I couldn't keep it together. But I had to keep it together. Thus the mantra, _I would keep it together, _rang in my head

I caught the look on her face as I shoved her into the bathtub, just like her parents must have –

Oh Barbara, I couldn't think about that. I decided to check the fridge to distract myself.

Opening the electronic, I was surprised to see a gallon of milk, the first perishable food I'd found in the house. It looked so out of place that I felt my thoughts sharpen. Checking the expiration date – only three weeks ago – I poured out the odiferous milk down the drain and frowned into the fridge for other signs of recent life.

Quinn was still curled on the couch when I emerged from the kitchen to hand her a bowl of soup and some toast. She accepted it with a more mournful look than usual. "You must think I'm a total freak."

I sat on a plaid chair across from her, tucking my legs beneath me, and held my bowl of soup against my chest for warmth. The living room ceiling went all the way up to the roof and the room was still drafty. "I am so sorry."

Quinn shook her head. "It was the only thing you could do. I just – I shouldn't have lost it that way."

I winced upon remembering the crack of her head hitting the wall and her splayed fingers reaching through the air as she careened into the tub.

"You did really well," Quinn said, glancing at me as she picked at the toast. She seemed to consider her words, and then just repeated, "You did really well. Are you –" She hesitated, then looked to where I sat which was several feet away from her. Something in her glance made the empty stretch of couch next to her painfully obvious.

"I'm not afraid of you!" I hurried to reassure her. "Is that what you think? I just thought you'd like some elbow room while you ate."

Actually, any other time, I'd happily crawled under the blanket with her – especially with her looking warm and sexy in a set of old cheerleading sweats that she'd gotten from her room. But I just wanted – I just needed to put my thoughts in order, and didn't think I could do that while sitting next to her just yet.

Quinn smiled, relief all over her face. "The soup's good."

"Thanks." It wasn't actually that good – in fact, it tasted completely canned and bland, but I was hungry enough that I didn't care. And the mechanical action of eating helped dull the images of Quinn in the bathtub.

"Tell me more about the mind-meld thing," I said, having the urge to keep her talking just to hear her human voice.

Quinn swallowed. "The what?"

"You said you showed me the woods when you were a wolf. And that the wolves talked to each other that way. Tell me more about it. I want to know how it works."

Quinn leaned forward to set her bowl on the floor, and when she sat back and looked at me, her face looked tired. "It's not like that."

"I didn't say it was like anything!" I said. "Not like what?"

"It's not a superpower," she replied. "It's a consolation prize." When I just looked at her, she added, "It's the only way we get to communicate. We can't remember words. We couldn't say them even if we could wrap our wolf brains around them. So all we get are little images that we can send to each other. Simple images. Like postcards from the other side."

"Can you send me one now?"

Quinn slouched down on the couch, tightening the blanket around her form. "I can't even remember how to do it now. While I'm _me_." She gestured to her body, "I can only do it when I'm a wolf. Why would I need it now? I have words. I can say anything I want to you."

I thought about how I would feel about losing my speech. I've been told I talk a lot, that I can manage a whole soliloqus without breathing, but of course, I chalked that fact up to it up to my breath control from singing. I thought about losing who I am, my love of singing, Broadway and I can catch a glimpse of how Quinn is feeling. I thought of saying _But words aren't enough_, but just the thought of it made me ache in an unfamiliar way.

So instead I said, "But I wasn't a wolf when you showed me the woods. So can the wolves talk to other pack members when those members are human?"

Quinn's heavy-lidded eyes flicked over my face. "I don't know. I don't think I ever tried with anyone else. Just wolves." She said, again, "Why would I need to?"

There was something bitter and tired in her voice. I set my bowl down on the end table and joined her on the couch. She lifted the blanket so that I could press myself against her side, and then she leaned her forehead against mine, closing her eyes. For a long moment, she just rested there, before her beautiful eyes were visible to me once again.

"All I cared about was showing you how to get home," she said, voice low and melodious. Her breath warmed my lips. "When you changed, I wanted to make sure you knew how to find me."

I ran my fingers across the triangle of bare chest that was visible above the v-neck of her sweatshirt. My voice came out a little uneven. "Well, I found you."

The dryer buzzed from down the hall, causing a strange sound to echo in the empty house. Quinn blinked and leaned back. "I should get my clothing." She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something else and blushed instead.

"Your clothes are not going anywhere," I teased with a lighthearted smile.

"Neither are we, if we don't break into the Mazda to get the keys," Quinn pointed out. "I'm thinking sooner rather than later for that. Especially since it's going to have to be you doing it. I can't stand out there for that long.

Well... She had a point.

I reluctantly moved back so that she could stand, holding the blanket around her like some sort of primitive chieftain. I could see the outline of her square shoulders, her slim build, firm abs and the curve of her chest and hips. I thought about the feel of her skin underneath my fingers, she saw me looking and held my gaze for half a second before vanishing into the dark hallway.

Something gnawed inside me.

Hungry... Wanting.

I sat on the couch after she left as I debating whether or not to follow her into the laundry room until reason won over. I took the plates to the kitchen then returned to the living room to poke around the bits and pieces on the mantel. I wanted to get a handle on the werewolf she called Sue, the one who owned the house. The one who had practically raised Quinn.

The living room, like the exterior of the house, looked comfortable and lived in. It was all tartans and rich reds and dark wood accents. One wall of the living room was almost entirely made up of tall windows, and the now-dark winter night seemed to enter the room without permission.

I turned my back on the windows and looked at a photo on the mantel: a loosely posed group of faces smiling at the camera. It made me think of the picture of Tina, Kurt, and me, and I felt a twinge of loss before focusing on the people in this photo. Out of the figures in the photo, my eyes immediately found Quinn.

This was a slightly younger version of her, with slightly tanned skin. Beside her on either side, there was a Latina with dark eyes and raven tresses who possessed a sort of sultry beauty; she was a little shorter than Quinn and a blonde with striking blue eyes, taller than Quinn.

They were about Quinn's age, the blonde was smiling so wide at the screen and it seemed as though she was trying not to bounce up and down. The Latina however was the only one not smiling at the camera, instead she seemed to be looking at Quinn and the blonde in an intense way that made my stomach churn.

A soft touch on my neck made me whirl around, defensive and Quinn jumped back, all the while laughing as she held her hands up in the air. "Easy!"

I swallowed the growl in my throat, feeling stupid and rubbed the still-tingling skin on my neck where she'd kissed it. "You should make some noise." I gestured to the photo, still feeling uncharitable toward the unnamed Latina girl beside her and curious about the other people in the picture. "Who are these people?"

Quinn lowered her hands and stood behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her clothing smelled clean and soapy; her skin gave off hints of wolf from her near-transformation earlier.

She pointed to a tall and skinny short-haired blonde in a track suit. "That's Sue. I told you a lot about her already." She moved her finger to a gruff looking German looking guy, "That's Ulrik. He's my 'German uncle'."

She then moved on to point at the tall blonde beside her. "That's Brittney. Everyone always thought she was dumb but let me tell you the truth, Britt was a genius. She knew things about people before they knew. She was the one who helped me figure out that I liked girls and she tried to warn me about my parents before the incidents."

She once again moved her finger, this time to the Latina on the other side of her in the picture. "That's Santana. She was my best friend for forever and protected me in school. For a long time she was in love with me, I think. But then, we met Britt a little later and San instantly fell in love but she couldn't deal with being in love with a girl. But she couldn't stay away and she and Britt had a secret relationship for a while and eventually when she came out, she was kicked out because her parents were strong Catholics. The three of us were so close that our school dubbed us the Unholy Trinity. Through the whole course of our friendship, we looked out for each other." She leaned her head on my shoulder, her cheek against mine.

I kept my voice light. "Britt and San. They're pretty."

Quinn growled in a soft, wild way that made my gut tense with longing. She pressed her lips against my neck that was not quite a kiss. "You've met them, you know."

It didn't take rocket science to figure it out. "The brown she-wolf with dark eyes and the white she-wolf with blue eyes." And I just asked it, because I wanted to know. "Why is she looking at you like that?"

"Oh, Rachel," she said, taking her lips from my neck. "I don't know. She's – I don't know. She's really protective sometimes. She remembers what my parents did to me, how messed up I was. I think she just thought you might hurt me the same way."

"Why?" I asked.

She gave a little laugh, not at all amused. "Why do you ask such hard questions? I don't know. She's had a bad life. Coming out to her parents only to have them reject her when they were supposed to love her in spite of the circumstance. She used to get bullied a lot when we were really little, so she had to learn to stand up to people. She loves being a wolf, the belonging that comes along with being in a pack plus she craves the power. I guess maybe she sees how I how much I resemble her past self in many ways and now that she has Britt, I guess she thinks that I deserve that with someone special."

"A..am I special e-enough?" I choked out in a whisper, my voice undeniably full of hope.

She stared at me with a look of disbelief smiled nervously, "Of course, I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Good." I replied, reaching around her waist, resting my head in that place on her shoulder where her shoulder meets her neck.

Quinn let out a long breath and pulled away from me.

I sighed. "Shhhhh. You didn't have to _move_."

"I'm trying to do what's right. To be the gentleman."

I leaned into her chest, smiling at her worried eyes. "You don't have to try so hard."

She sucked in her breath, waited a long moment, before carefully kissing my neck just underneath my jaw line. My back arched and my head tilted back to give her more space. And when I couldn't take it anymore teasing, I kissed her firmly on her lips although I could still feel her hesitance. charming, indeed..

"I was thinking about the refrigerator," I whispered.

Quinn pulled back ever so slightly, mindful of the fact that she wouldn't remove herself from my arms. she looked incredulous and slightly offended but her amusement was evident as she stated, "You were thinking about the refrigerator? While I was kissing you. Are my lips that cold? Or am I just a lousy kisser?"

I rolled my eyes before answering, "Yes. I was thinking about how you didn't know that the power is on here for the winter. Since, you know... It is."

She frowned at me.

I rubbed the crease between her brows. "So who pays the power bill? Sue?" When she nodded, I went on, "There was milk in the fridge, Quinn. It was only a few weeks old. Someone has been in here. Recently."

Quinn's arms around me slackened and her already melancholic eyes had gone even sadder. Her entire expression was complicated, her face like a book conveyed in a language I couldn't understand.

"Quinn," I said, wanting to bring her back to me.

But her body had gone stiff. In a clipped tone, she declared, "I should get you home. Your dads will be worried."

I laughed, short and humourless. "Yeah. I'm sure. You just love changing topics on me, don't you? Avoidance tactics or whatnot... And let's be honest, my dads don't care for me. Now talk to me, what's wrong? Quinn, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Quinn shook her head, but she was clearly distracted. "I mean, not nothing. It's been a hell of a day, that's all. I'm just – I'm just tired, I guess."

She did look tired, something dark and somber in her expression. I wondered if almost changing had affected her more than I'd thought, or if I should've just stayed quiet about Santana, Brittney and Sue.

"You're coming home with me, then." She jerked her chin toward the house around her. "C'mon," I said. "I'm still worried that you'll disappear."

"I won't disappear."

Inadvertently, I thought of her on the floor in the hallway, curled up, making a soft noise as she struggled to stay human. I immediately wished I hadn't. "You can't promise that. I don't want to go home. Not unless you're coming with me."

Quinn groaned softly. Her palms brushed the bare skin in between the waistband of my sweatpants and the bottom edge of the tank top I was wearing, her thumbs tracing desire on my sides. "Don't tempt me."

I didn't say anything; just stood in her arms while looking up at her expectantly.

She buried her face against my shoulder and groaned again. "It's so hard to behave myself around you." She pushed away from me. "I don't know if I should keep staying with you. God, you're only, what – you're only seventeen."

"And you're so old, right?" I said, suddenly defensive.

"Eighteen," she said, as if it were something to be sad about. "At least I'm legal."

I actually laughed, though nothing was funny. My cheeks felt hot and my heart pounded in my chest. "Are you kidding me?"

"Rachel," she said, and the sound of my name slowed my heart immediately. She took my arm. "I want to do things right, okay? I only get this one chance to do things right with you."

I looked at her. The room was silent except for the rattle of leaves blowing up against the windows. I wondered what my face looked like just then, turned up at Quinn. Was it the same intense gaze that Santana wore in the photograph? Is this what obsession looked like?

The frigid night pressed up against the window beside us, a threat that had become abruptly real tonight. This wasn't about lust. It was about fear.

"Please come back with me," I said. I didn't know what I'd do if she said no. I couldn't stand to return here tomorrow and find her a wolf.

Quinn must have seen it in my eyes, because she just nodded and picked up the slim-jim.

* * *

_Quinn_

Rachel's dads were home.

"They're never home," Rachel said, her voice clearly portraying out her annoyance. But there they were, or at least their cars: her dad's Taurus, looking either silver or blue in the moonlight, and her daddy's little VW Rabbit tucked in front of it. "Don't even think of saying '_I told you so_,'" Rachel said. "I'm going to go inside and see where they are, and then I'll come back out to debrief."

"You mean, for me to debrief you," I corrected, tensing my muscles to keep from shivering. Whether from nerves or the memory of cold, I didn't know.

"Yes," Rachel replied absentmindedly as she turned off the headlights. "That. Be right back."

I watched her run in the house before I slunk down into my seat. I couldn't quite believe that I was hiding in a car in the middle of a freezing cold night, waiting for a girl to come running back out and tell me the coast was clear to come sleep in her room.

thing was, she was not just any girl. It's t_he _girl, my _girl_. My Rachel.

She appeared at the front door and made an elaborate gesture. It took me a moment to realize she meant for me to turn off the Mazda and come in. I did so.

Sliding out of the car as quickly as possible, the cold tugged and bit at my exposed skin as I hurried quietly up towards the house. Without even letting me pause, Rachel gave me a shove, launching me down the hall while she shut the front door and headed in toward the kitchen.

"I forgot my backpack," she announced loudly in the other room.

I used the cover of their conversation to creep into Rachel's room and softly shut the door. Inside the house, it was easily thirty degrees warmer. A fact for which I was very grateful about as I could still feel the trembling in my muscles from being outside; the sensation of _in between_ that I hated.

The cold exhausted me and I didn't know how long Rachel would be up with her dads, so I climbed into bed without turning on the light. Sitting there in the dim moonlight, leaning against the pillows, I rubbed life back into my frozen toes and listed to Rachel's distant and melodious voice down the hall.

She and her daddy were having some amiable conversation about the Funny Girl movie musical edition that had just been on TV. I'd already noticed that Rachel and her dads had no problem talking about unimportant things. They seemed to have an endless capacity for laughing pleasantly together about inane topics, but I'd never once heard them talk about anything meaningful.

It was so strange to me, coming from the environment of the pack. Ever since Sue had taken me under her wing, I'd been surrounded by family, sometimes suffocatingly so, and Sue had never failed to give me her undivided attention when I wanted it. I'd taken it for granted but now I felt spoiled.

I was still sitting up in bed when the doorknob turned quietly. I immediately froze as my muscles tensed, ready for action before exhaling quietly when I recognized the sound of Rachel's breathing. She shut the door behind her and turned toward the window.

I saw a flash of her white teeth in the low light.

"You in here?" she whispered.

"Where are your dads? Are they going to come in here and shoot me?"

Rachel went silent. In the shadows, without her voice, her beautiful voice, she was invisible to me.

I was about to say something to dispel the strangely awkward moment when she said, "No, they're upstairs. Daddy's making Dad sit for him to paint him. So you're clear to go brush your teeth and stuff. If you do it fast. Just sing, so that they think it's me." Her voice hardened when she said _Dad_, though I couldn't imagine why.

"A beautiful voice," I half-corrected, half-reminded her. Sometimes, I wondered if she would ever realize how arrogant she sounded. "A voice so angelic that I could never dream of imitating. Especially with my shaky, boring alto voice..." I stated with a frown.

Rachel looked at me, "What? You listen to me sing? When? H-how? Wait! You can sing?"

I nodded. " Yes I do. Especially when you sing in the shower, my sensitive ears can pick it up in no time. Sometimes, I was graced with your voice when you sang while on the tire swing or standing on your patio while I watched from the woods. Yup. I used to be in choir, they didn't have Glee yet back then. And I used to be a cheerleader. Before the whole shifting thing got really bad."

Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed drammatically. "Of course, you would have been a cheerleader." I make a note to ask her about that later as Rachel passed by me on the way to the dresser, swatting at my butt. "Just go."

Leaving my shoes in her room, I padded quietly down the hall to the downstairs bathroom. It only had a stand-up shower, for which I was intensely grateful and Rachel made sure to pull the curtain shut so that I wouldn't have to look into it.

I brushed my teeth with her toothbrush. Then I stood there; a lanky teenager in a big green T-shirt I had borrowed from her as I traced my gaze from my blond tresses down to my forehead until I came in contact with my reflection's hazel eyes in the mirror. _What are you doing, Quinn?_

I closed my eyes, as if hiding my pupils would change what I was. They were so wolf like even when I was a human. The fan for the central heating hummed, sending subtle vibrations through my bare feet, reminding that it was the only thing keeping me in this human form.

The new October nights were already cold enough to rip my skin from me, and by next month, the days would be, too. What was I going to do, hide in Rachel's house all winter, fearing every creeping draft?

I opened my eyes again, staring at them in the mirror until their shape and colour didn't meant anything. I wondered what Rachel saw in me, why I fascinated her. What was I without my wolf skin? A girl stuffed so full of words that they spilled out of me.

Right now, every phrase, every sentence that I had in my head ended with the same word: _love_.

I had to tell Rachel that this was my last year.

I peered into the hallway for signs of her parents and crept back into the bedroom, where Rachel was already in bed, a long, soft lump under the covers. For a moment, I let my imagination run wild as to what she was wearing. I had a dim wolf memory of her climbing out of bed one morning, wearing just an oversized T-shirt making it unclear as to if she was wearing shorts underneath and her long legs exposed as she slid them out from under the covers. It was undeniably sexy that it hurt to restrain myself, emotionally and physically.

Immediately, I felt embarrassed for fantasizing. I sort of paced around at the end of the bed for a few minutes, thinking about cold showers and barre chords and other things that weren't Rachel.

"Hey," she whispered, voice muffled as if she had been asleep already. "What're you doing?"

"Shhh," I said, my cheeks flushing. "Sorry I woke you up. I was just thinking."

Her reply was broken by a yawn. "Stop thinking the-en."

I climbed into bed, keeping to the edge of the mattress. Something about this evening had changed me – something about Rachel seeing me at my worst, immobile in the bathtub, ready to give up. Tonight, the bed seemed too small to escape her scent, the intoxicating strawberries and vanilla, the sleepy sound of melodious voice, the warmth of her small body.

I discreetly stuffed a bunch of blankets and pillows between us and rested my head on the pillow, willing my doubts to fly away and let me sleep.

Rachel reached over and began stroking her fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and let her drive me crazy.

"I like your hair," she said. I didn't say anything. "Sorry about tonight," She whispered. "I don't mean to push your boundaries.

I sighed as her fingers curled around my ears and neck. "It's just so fast. I want you to" – I stopped short of saying _love me_, because it seemed presumptive – "want to be with me. I've wanted it forever. I just never thought it would actually happen." It felt too serious, so I added, "I am just a mythological creature, after all. I technically shouldn't exist."

Rachel laughed, low. Just for me. "Silly girl. You feel very real to me."

"You do, too," I whispered.

There was a long pause in the darkness.

"I wish I changed," She said finally, barely audible.

I opened my eyes, needing to see the way her face looked when she said that. It was more descriptive than any expression I'd ever seen her wear: immeasurably sad as her lips formed a crooked frown, her expressive brown doe eyes sparking with unshed tears and absolute longing.

I reached out for her, cupped the side of her face with my hand. "Oh, no, you don't, Rachel. No, you don't."

She shook her head against the pillow. "I felt so miserable when I heard the howling. I felt so awful when you disappeared for the summer."

"Oh, angel, I would take you with me if I could," I said, and I was simultaneously surprised that the word _angel_ came out of my mouth and that it felt right to call her that. I ran a hand over her hair, fingers catching in the chestnut strands. "But you don't want this. I lose more of myself every year."

Rachel's voice was strange. "Tell me what happens, at the end."

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant. "Oh, the end."

There were a thousand ways to tell her, a thousand ways to colour it. Rachel wouldn't fall for the rose-coloured version that Sue had told me at first, so I just told it straight. "I become me, Quinn, – become human – later in the spring every year. And one year – I guess I just won't change. I've seen it happen to the older wolves. One year, they don't become human again, and they're just … a wolf. And they live a little longer than natural wolves. But still – fifteen years, maybe."

"How can you talk about your own death like that?"

I looked at her, eyes glistening in the dim light. "How else could I talk about it?"

"Like you regret it?"

"I regret it every day."

Rachel was silent, but I _felt_ her processing what I'd said, pragmatically putting everything into its proper place in in her head. "You were a wolf when you got shot."

I wanted to press my lips to her lips, push the words she was forming back into her mouth. It was too soon. I didn't want her to say it yet.

But Rachel went on, her voice low. "You missed the hottest months this year. It wasn't that cold when you got shot. It was cold, but not winter cold. But you were a wolf. When were you a human this year?"

I whispered, "I don't remember."

"What if you hadn't been shot? When would you have become you again?"

I closed my eyes. "I don't know, Rachel." It was the perfect moment to tell her. _This is my last year_. But I couldn't say it. Not yet. I wanted another minute, another hour, another night of pretending this wasn't the end.

Rachel inhaled a slow, shaky breath, and something in the way she did it made me realize that somehow, on some level, she knew. She'd known all along. She wasn't crying but I thought I might.

Rachel put her fingers back into my hair, and mine were in hers. Our bare arms pressed against each other in a cool tangle of skin. Every little movement against her arm rubbed off a tiny spark of her scent, a tantalizing mix of strawberries and vanilla, of faint sweat as my desire for her grew each torturous second.

I wondered if she knew how transparent her scent made her, how it told me what she was feeling when she didn't say it out loud.

Of course, I'd seen her smelling the air just as often as I did. She had to know that she was driving me crazy right now, that every touch of her skin on mine tingled like an electric current.

Every touch pushed the reality of the oncoming winter further away.

As if to prove me right, Rachel moved closer, kicking away the blankets and pillows between us, pressing her mouth to mine. I let her part my lips and slip her tongue into my mouth. Our tongues began to twist and turn, caress and dance in a sensual way. It was not a war of dominance but a heavenly feeling that completely enveloped me.

I sighed, tasting her breath. I listened to her almost inaudible gasp as I wrapped my arms around her. Every one of my senses was whispering to me over and over to get closer to her closer to her. As close as I could. She twisted her bare legs in mine and we kissed until we had no more breath and got closer until distant howls outside the window brought me back to my senses.

Rachel made a soft noise of disappointment as I disentangled my legs from hers, aching with wanting more. I shifted to lie next to her, my fingers still caught in her hair. We listened to the wolves howling outside the window, the ones who hadn't changed. Or who would never change again. Like Brittney or Santana who for some reason had even fewer years than I did. And we buried our lips together and laid with our heads against each other so we couldn't hear anything but the racing of our hearts.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: So I know that the ordering of this chapter is a bit strange, particularly after the line break and it's in Quinn's POV instead of Rachel's. Anyway, bear with me as I am currently operating beta-less as lealbee has midterms this week. Wish her well for me :) As well, I should probably warn you that I do have two midterms next week (Monday and Thursday) as well as three assignments to do (two on Tuesday and one on Wednesday) and 2-3 labs to do, so posting might have to go on the back burner for a while as I have nothing else in the works yet. Anyone, who was wondering why I wanted to post on Wednesday, it's the 22nd. (well for my time at least) It's because today is my birthday and for all intents and purposes, this would be the first post I am posting as a 21 year old :). I know it's kinda childish to wanna do these things but meh I'm okay with that. **

**So anyway, if there are any mistakes in this, it is all my fault. Blame me! Or don't, I kinda am sensitive. Nicely let me know and I will do my best to improve. Also I don't own the characters (belongs to RIB and Glee and Fox or whatnot) and the plot (belongs to Maggie Stievater as I am adapting from her Shiver-Linger-Forever series, we are currently in Shiver) **

**Reviewers: I am so glad to see so many more reviews :) it's so exciting when I see them :) It makes me jump around like a little kid (well, internally at least.) OH! and most of you were asking when fluffy times were coming and wondering why I was keeping it so sad and angsty... I know I hate it when its like forever angst but I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel. It's just that the tunnel will be dark for now :( sorry... *insert evil laugh* Actually it's just that the series is pretty angsty, I'll try to post faster in the angsty bits so you can get to the happy times but for now, imagine them happy, I tell you! Happy humans is endgame! **

**Dark Angel: I promise I'll get you guys some Human Brittana. I mean, all the Brittana will be me writing it in so I am basically promising I'll add in work just so you can see some Brittana. But I as the writer can chose when... *insert evil laugh* You'll just have to wait and see when that will be! Enjoy the ride for now :)**

**RachelBarbaraBerry: That's awesome that you're back! Where were you? I missed you :P Er... I personally don't think Quinn would ever be happy with her wolf. I mean just imagine losing everything you are more and more every year until you aren't even you anymore. That's kinda Quinn's life, Quinn's future. **

**RVFlorida: I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel. Too bad you, as the reader, won't know how long the tunnel is. :P *insert evil laugh* Don't worry, I'll get you to the fluff eventually :)**

**iExist: Awww that's awesome that you think my story is good. Well technically, it's not mine, I'm just adapting to fit our two favourite ladies. Anyway, I'll do my best to keep the updates coming as soon as possible. **

**Wow, I'll stop jibberjabbering now. I know I did a lot of that today. Forgive me, it's my birthday which apparently means I have more to say. I was totally going to add something worthwhile to this and I completely forgot. Anyway, enjoy! Oh right! I was going to say being one year older has apparently brought out my evil side. I seem to be evilly laughing a lot. :P**

**Updated: Jan 26,1014**

**Just the beta-ed edition, not anything particularly new**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Rachel_

School felt like an alien planet on Monday.

It took me a long moment of sitting behind the wheel of the Mazda, watching the students milling on the sidewalks and the cars circling the lot and the buses filing neatly into place to realize that school hadn't changed. I had, though.

"You have to go to school," Quinn suggested. If I hadn't known her, I wouldn't have heard the hopeful, questioning note. I wondered where she would go while I was sitting in class.

I looked down at the outfit I had picked with Quinn's help. She said my argyle and short shirts with my leggings and knee-highs were cute but I was impressed at her taste. She had picked out a red button up shirt with jeans that hugged my figure just right. This was paired with a pair of ballet flats and simple make-up and hair.

"I know," I replied, frowning at the multi-coloured sweaters and scarves trailing into the school, evidence of winter's approach. "It just seems so…" What it seemed was irrelevant, disconnected from what had become my life. It was hard to remember what was important about sitting in a classroom with a stack of notes that would be meaningless by next year.

Beside me, Quinn jumped in surprise when the passenger door on my side flew open. Tina hopped into the Mazda with her backpack all the while slamming the door shut and letting out a big sigh. The car seemed very full with her in it.

"Nice car." She leaned forward and looked over at Quinn. "Ooh, a girl. Hi, Girl! Rach, I'm so _hyper_. Coffee! Are you mad at me?"

I leaned back in surprise, blinking. "No?"

"Good! Because when you didn't call me in for_ever_, I figured you'd either died or were mad at me. And you're obviously not dead, so I thought it was the mad thing." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "But—" she said, dragging the word out, "—you _are _still pissed at Kurt, right?"

"Yes…" I replied. Although I wasn't sure if it still held true. I remembered why we fought, of course, but I couldn't really remember why it had been meaningful. So I backtracked. "No. I don't think so. It was stupid."

"Yeah, I thought so," Tina said. She leaned forward and rested her chin on the driver's chair so that she could look at Quinn. "So, Girl, why are you in Rachel's car?"

Despite myself, I knew what Quinn _was_ needed to be a secret but Quinn herself didn't have to be, right? I was suddenly filled with the need for Tina to approve of her. "Yeah, Girl," I said, craning my neck to see Quinn right beside me. She wore an expression caught somewhere between amusement and doubt. "Why are you in my car?"

"I am here for visual interest," Quinn said.

"Wow," Tina turns to me. "I know you said that you were interested in girls as well as guys but I didn't realize you were serious. I mean you've only ever talked about guys. Like Finn and Jesse and Puck for a bit."

I scrunched up my face in disgust. Tina continued, turning back to Quinn. "So… Like… Is this a long-term or a short-term thing?"

"For as long as I'm interesting." She nuzzled her face into my shoulder for a moment in a wordless gesture of affection. I tried not to smile like an idiot.

"Oh, it's that way, is it? Well, then… I'm Tina—" a hand was offered, "—and I'm hyper. I'm also Rachel's best friend, besides Kurt, of course." She rushed and was still sticking her hand out patiently. She was wearing her black fingerless gloves that stretched up to her elbows. It seemed she was in her gothic vampire phase.

After deciding to bite the bullet, Quinn took her hand then shook it firmly. "Quinn."

"Nice to meet you, Quinn. Do you go here?" When she shook her head, Tina took my hand and stated, "Yeah. I didn't think so. Not that I'm interested or whatever, I like boys. Rachel has probably told you lots about my boyfriend. His name is Mike, by the way. His toned abdomen is to die for. Anyway," a finger was pointed towards me, "I'm going to steal this nice person from you and take her to class because we're going to be late and I have lots of stuff to talk to her about like…" She then proceeded to list things with her fingers. "…Broadway, and wolves, and Glee club, and, oh!"

The sudden exclamation startled both Quinn and I. After sending a quick apologetic look at her, I returned my attention to my friend. And they say I babble a lot… Geez.

Tina was gesturing with her hands wildly. "She's missed out on so much freaky wolf stuff because she's not talking to Kurt. Did I tell you who Kurt is already?" She didn't let Quinn answer, instead, she explained, "He's Rachel's other best friend. A huge fan of fashion and Broadway, which is both a blessing and a curse since it always leads to fights for solos with Rachel but it was also what made them friends in the first place. He's super cute and absolutely gay, no matter how hot a girl you introduced him to is."

She finally took a breath before fishing out her phone on her pocket and probably glancing at the time. "Well, I guess it's safe to say we have to go now if we don't want to be late. Helpful fact? I don't normally talk this much and I'm not normally this hyper, but right now, I kind of am. I blame, once again, the coffee. Let's go, Rach!"

Quinn and I exchanged looks. I caught her eyes flashing fleetingly with worry; but before I could reassure her, Tina opened her side's passenger door, went to my side of the car then all but pulled me out. Quinn slid over the console behind the wheel.

For a second, I thought she might kiss me good-bye but instead, she glanced at Tina before resting her hand on my cheek. She looked into my eyes; I into hers. All I saw was longing and love in her hazel orbs and for another brief moment, I wondered what she saw in mine. Her cheeks tinged with pink.

Tina didn't say anything. She smiled crookedly though before pulling me towards the school. She wiggled my arm to catch my attention. Uncharacteristically, she smirked, wiggled her brows suggestively then said teasingly, "So that's why you haven't been calling, huh? She is super cute, for a girl. And trust me; I've seen a lot of cute girls around. Is she homeschooled or something?"

It's safe to say, I won't ever give her a cup of coffee for a long while. As we pushed through the school doors, I looked over my shoulder at the Mazda. Quinn lifted a hand in a wave before backing out of the parking lot. "Yeah. She is. On both counts," I said dreamily. "More on that later… What's going on with the wolves?"

Tina dramatically clutched her arms around my shoulders. "Kurt saw one. It was up on their front porch and there were _claw marks_, Rach. On. The. Door. Creep factor much, alright."

I halted in the middle of the hallway; the students who were behind us made irritated noises before walking their way around us. I said, "Wait. At Kurt's house?"

"No. At your mom's." Tina deadpanned; I slapped her arm lightly. Grinning, she shook her head and peeled off her gothic black gloves. "Yes, at Kurt's house. If you guys would stop fighting, he would tell you himself. What are you fighting about, anyway? It pains me to see my peeps not playing nice with each other."

"I told you, it's just stupid stuff." I stated ambiguously. I kind of wanted her to stop talking so I could try and think about the wolf at Kurt's house. Was it Finn again? I get that they are like stepbrothers and whatnot but… I felt like I was missing something.

"Well, you guys need to start getting along because I want you both to come with meover Christmas break; that trip we were planning remember? And that's not that far off, you know? I mean, not really, once you start planning stuff. Come _on_, Rach! Please, just say yes!" Tina wailed.

"Maybe," was my distracted answer.

It wasn't really the wolf at Kurt's that bothered me. It was the fact that there were claw marks. I needed to talk to Kurt and find out how much of this was real and how much of it was Tina's love of a good story.

"Is this about The Girl?"

I looked at her funny. Why was she insisting on calling Quinn, _"The Girl"_? If I remembered correctly, Quinn did mention her name.

Now, her face was full of confusion. "What?"

"Huh?" I answered unintelligently.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

I just shrugged to which she did the same.

"Anyways, she can come, if you want. I really won't and don't care." Tina exclaimed. The hall was slowly emptying; the bell rang overhead.

"We'll talk about it later!" I replied and hurried with Tina into first period. I found my usual seat and began sorting through my meticulously done homework.

"We need to talk."

I jerked to attention at the sound of an entirely different voice—Noah Puckerman's. He slid his motorcycle boots the rest of the way under the other desk and leaned towards me, his Mohawk on the top of his head nearly poking my eye out in his impatience.

"We're sort of in class right now, Noah," I stated dryly, gesturing towards the loudspeaker that was blaring out the morning announcements in Principal Figgins' annoying monotone voice.

The teacher was already at the front of the class, bent over her desk. She wasn't paying any attention, but I still wasn't thrilled with the idea of a conversation with Noah. Best case scenario was that he needed help with her homework or something. I was good at school but I didn't have the highest GPA simply because I was so involved in so many clubs and teams.

On a bad case one, he was going to say something in an attempt to get into my pants. He always did flirt with me and call me his Jew princess or whatnot. Worst case scenario? He wanted to talk about Finn. Yeah, that won't go well.

Quinn had said that the only rule the pack had was that they didn't talk about werewolves to outsiders. I wasn't about to break that rule. Noah's face was wearing a slight pout, but I saw storms destroying small villages in his eyes.

He glanced towards the front of the room then leaned closer to me. I smelled his scent: cologne mixed with leather and a slight tinge of sweat. "It will only take a second."

I looked over at Tina who was frowning at Puck. She was probably remembering the time I had a short fling with him. I really didn't want to talk to him since I didn't really know much about him except that he was Finn's best friend and probably the second popular person to talk to me.

I had only gone out with him because Finn and I were taking a short break. I realized that Puck wasn't right for me but he seemed to be a good person. I also knew that he was a badass and he protected me from slushies and such when Finn didn't do anything for me. I knew that he could quickly take away my protection. _**  
**_

"Why?"

"_Privately_," Noah hissed. "Across the hall."

I rolled my eyes as I pushed out of my desk and tiptoed out of the back of the room. Tina gave me a brief, pained look when I passed by her. I was sure I wore a matching one.

"Two seconds. That's it," I told Noah as we shuffled across the hall into an empty classroom. The corkboard on the opposite wall was covered with anatomical drawings; and comically enough, someone had pinned a thong over one of the figures.

"Yeah. Whatever." He shut the door behind us and eyed me as if I would spontaneously break into song or something.

I didn't know what he was waiting for. I crossed my arms, pouting as I patiently waited for Noah to say something. But when he remained silent for another two minutes, I asked in an irritated tone, "Okay. What do you want?"

I thought I was prepared for it but when he mentioned Finn's name, my heart still raced. I didn't say anything. He took it as a sign to continue.

"I saw him while I was out running this morning."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I summoned all the acting lessons I took up when I was small and looked at him incredulously. Well, trying to look at him that way, anyway. "Finn. While you were running?" I questioned with an air of disbelief clear on my words and expression.

Noah pointed at me with a finger, twitching slightly with anger. "Oh, don't give me that. I didn't imagine it, okay? I know this because I _talked _to him. That's right, he's not dead." He finished triumphantly as I briefly wrestled with the image of Noah jogging. But, I just couldn't see it. Maybe he meant running from Stephanie or one of the other girls that Noah typically slept with?

"Um…"

Before I could get a word in though, Noah pressed on. "There's something screwed up with him. And don't say, _'That's because he's dead.'_ because he is not." Something about Noah's badass personality – and maybe the fact that I knew Finn was actually alive – made it very difficult to empathize with him.

I said, "Noah, I'm not sure what kind of response you expect from me. You're saying that Finn is alive and you talked to him. Just how is that possible? Last time I checked, he is dead. Besides, it seems to me that this conversation isn't needed. Come to think of it, you're doing a great job all by yourself."

"Shut up," Noah declared vehemently which only supported my theory that he didn't need me for this conversation. I was about to tell himso, but his next words stopped me cold. "When I saw Finn, he said that he didn't actually die. So we got to taking. But then he started twitching and he appeared to be nervous. He quickly said that he had to go. When I tried to ask him what was wrong, he said that you knew."

My voice came out a little strangled as I squeaked out a, "Me?"

Though, I remembered how his eyes were imploring me as he lay pinned beneath the she wolves, who I now know by name as Santana and Brittany. '_Help me,'_ they seemed to say. I knew then that he had recognized me.

"It's not exactly a shock now, is it? Everyone knows that you and Kurt Hummel are freaks for those wolves, and clearly this has something to do with them. So what's it going to be? Are you going to tell me or do I have to sic Azimio and Karofsky to get the information out of you?"

I didn't like the way he asked the question – like maybe he already knew the answer. Blood was rushing to my ears; I was way over my head.

"Look. You're upset, I get that. But seriously, get help. Leave me and Kurt out of this. I don't know what you saw, but it wasn't Finn." The lie left a bad taste in my mouth. I could see the reasoning behind the pack's secrecy, but Finn was Noah's best friend. They were basically brothers. Didn't he have a right to know?

"I wasn't seeing things," Noah snapped as I opened the door. "I'm going to find him again. And when I do, I'm going to find out what your part is in all of this."

"I don't have a part," I said. "I just like the wolves. Okay? Now, I need to get to class."

Noah stood in the doorway, watching me go.

I wondered what, at the beginning of all of this, he had thought I was going to say. He looked almost forlorn, or maybe it was just an act. In any case, I said, "Noah, just get help."

He crossed his arms. "I thought that's what I was doing."

* * *

_Quinn_

While Rachel was at school, I spent a long time near the school, not really doing anything but lost in my thoughts about meeting wild Tina and wondering what she'd meant by the wolf comment. I debated hunting for Finn, but I wanted to hear what Rachel found out at school before I went on any wild-goose chase.

I didn't quite know how to occupy my time without both Rachel and my pack. I felt like someone who has an hour until his bus arrives – not really enough time to do anything important, but too much time to just sit and wait. The subtle cold bite behind the breeze told me that I couldn't put off getting on my bus forever.

I finally drove the Mazda to the post office. I had the key to Sue's post office box, but mostly what I wanted to do was conjure memories and pretend that I'd run into her there. I remembered the day Sue had brought me there to pick up my books for school – even now; I remembered it had been a Tuesday. Because back then, Tuesdays were my favourite day. I don't remember why – it was just something about the way that _u_ looked like when it was next to _e_ that seemed very friendly.

I always loved going to the post office with Sue; it was like a treasure cave with rows and rows of little locked boxes holding secrets and surprises only for those with the proper key. With peculiar clarity, I clearly remembered everything, from the conversation down to the expression on Sue's face.

* * *

*Flashback*

_"Quinn, Santana and Brittany, Come on!" __**Sue hollered in front of us.**_

_"What's that?" I asked pointing at the obviously heavy package she was carrying._

_Sue shoved her back ineffectually against the glass door while Sue was suffering under the weight of the box she was carrying.__ "Your brains."_

_"I already have one. Thanks," snarked Santana._

_Sue replied, "If any of you did, you would have already opened the door for me."_

_Britt skipped ahead then pushed the door open before asking, "What is it really?"_

_"Schoolbooks. We are going to continue your education so your brains won't turn to mush and be covered with cobwebs causing you to grow up as idiots."_

*end flashback*

* * *

I remembered being intrigued by the idea of school-in-a-box, like just-add-water-and-Quinn. The rest of the pack was equally intrigued. Santana, Britt and I were the first in the pack to be bit before finishing school so the novelty of educating us was fascinating to the others.

For several summers, they all took turns with the massive lesson manual and the lovely, ink-smelling new textbooks. They would stuff my brain full all day long; Ulrik for math; Sue for history; my mom taught vocabulary and later on in the day, science.

They shouted test questions at us across the dinner table, invented songs for the timelines of dead presidents and converted one of the dining room walls into a giant whiteboard that was always written with the words of the day and dirty jokes that no one would cop to.

When we were done with the first box of books, Sue packed them up and another came to take its place. When I wasn't studying my school-in-a-box, I was surfing the Internet for a different sort of education. I surfed for photos of circus freaks and synonyms for the word _intercourse_ and for answers to why staring at the stars in the evening tore my heart with longing.

During those times, Santana and I weren't as close yet but Britt was a different story. She is friends with everyone and I mean everyone. I also felt sorry for Santana. Her family seemed to be similar to mine and we coped with it in similar ways.

We made ourselves inaccessible to others. Britt and I were the only ones who had managed to float a life raft to the island that was Santana Lopez and occasionally managing to coax out words and maybe even a smile.

Santana was a strange, breakable individual that would do anything to reassert control over her life. She mostly coped up with life by calling other people degrading names, or playing tricks on others. Other times, she would steal things from Sue so that she would have to ask where they'd gone, play with the thermostat to watch Ulrik get up off the couch to fix it, hide my books so that I would talk with her instead of reading, or mess with Brittney's cat, Lord Tubbington.

One thing we had in common was that we were all broken in some form or another. I was the kid who couldn't bear to look into a bathroom; books and anything school-related didn't mean a thing for Santana and Britt. My blonde friend was never book smart. She was more knowledgeable when it comes to people and their quirks that they're not even aware about. They both just left the books to collect dust then looked up wolf behaviour online. Most of the time, they spent their time with each other, either kissing or doing m-rated things to each other behind closed doors.

Now here in the post office, I stopped in front of Sue's P.O. Box, number 730. I touched the chipped paint of the numbers; the three was nearly gone and had been for as long as I'd been coming here. I put the key into the box, but I didn't turn it.

Was it so wrong to want _this _so badly? An ordinary life of ordinary years with Rachel? A couple of decades of turning keys in P.O. boxes and lying in bed and putting up Christmas trees in winter?

Again, it made me think of Santana. Memories of her were biting and sharp, cold next to memories of Rachel. She had always thought of my attachment to my human life ludicrous. I still remembered the worst fight we had about it. Not the first, or the last, but the cruelest.

* * *

*Flashback*

_I was lying on my bed as I read a laid out copy of _Yeats_ that Ulrik had bought for me when out of nowhere, Santana jumped onto the mattress and stepped on the pages of my book, wrinkling them beneath her bare foot._

_"Come listen to the howls I found online," she all but ordered._

_"I'm reading."_

_"Mine's more important," Santana scowled as she towered above me, her toes curling and crinkling the pages further. "Why do you bother reading this stuff?" She gestured to the stack of schoolbooks on the desk beside my bed. "That's not what you're going to be when you grow up. You're not going to find a girl. Hell! You're not even going to be a woman. You're going to be a wolf, so you should be learning wolf things."_

_"Shut up," I hissed, a sudden rush of anger invading my calm demeanour._

_"Well, it's true. You're not going to be Quinn. All those books are a waste. You're going to be an alpha female. I read about that. And Britt and I, we want to be your betas." Her face was flushed, a tell-tale sign of her excitement. Santana wanted nothing more than to leave her past behind although she did want more time with Brittany._

_I ripped _Yeats_ out from beneath her foot and smoothed the page. "I will be Quinn. I'm never going to stop being Quinn."_

_"You won't ever be!" Santana's voice had gotten louder at this point. She jumped off of my bed and shoved my _stack_ of books over; thousands of _words_crashing onto the floor. "This is just pretending! We won't have names, we'll just be wolves!"_

_Something inside of me snapped. I aggressively countered, "Shut up! I can still be Quinn when I'm a wolf!"_

_Sue burst into the room then and looked at the scene in her own silent way._

_My books, my life and my dreams, spread under Shelby's feet while I was on my bed, clutching my wrinkled Yeats in a deathlike grip._

_"What's going on here?" Sue questioned in a composed manner._

_Santana jerked an accusing finger at me. "Tell her! Tell her she's not going to be Quinn anymore by the time we are wolves. She can't be because she won't even know her name. Just like I won't be Santana."_

_She was shaking, undoubtedly furious with all of this._

_Sue's voice was so quiet I could barely hear her. "Quinn will always be Quinn. Don't you ever tell her differently, Santana, or I will take you and Brittany back to your parents. I will take you back."_

_Britt stared with wide, open eyes behind Sue and came around her before she grabbed Santana's upper arm and marched her out of the room, the Latina's feet skidding on my books. In the hallway, Santana began to scream, and she didn't stop until Sue slammed her bedroom door. Her screams became more muffled as Brittany's muffled voice seemed to console her._

_Sue walked back past my room and paused in the doorway. I was gently stacking my books back on the desk. The words shook in my hands as I did. I thought Sue would say something, but she just picked up a book by her feet and added it to my pile before she promptly left._

_Later, I heard Ulrik and Sue talking. They didn't even realize there weren't many places in the house a werewolf couldn't hear._

_"You were too hard on Santana," Ulrik said. "She has a point. What is it that you think she's going to do with all this wonderful book learning, Sue? It's not as if she'll ever be able to do what you do." A long pause draped over them before Ulrik continued, "What? You can't be surprised. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you were thinking. But tell me, __how did you think Quinn would go to college?"_

_There was another pause. Finally, Sue uttered, "Summer school and some online credits."_

_"Right. Let's say Quinn gets her degree. What's she going to do with it? Go to law school online, too? And then what kind of lawyer would she be? People put up with your eccentric gone-for-the-winter routine because you were established when you were bitten. Quinn will have to get jobs that ignore her unscheduled disappearance every year. For all the learning you're stuffing in her head, she's going to have to get jobs at gas stations like the rest of us. That is, of course, if she even makes it past twenty."_

_"You want to tell her to give up? Good luck doing so then because one thing's for sure, I will never tell her that."_

_"I'm not telling her to give up. I'm telling you to give up."_

_"Quinn doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. She wants to learn. She's smart."_

_"Sue… You're going to make her miserable. You can't give her all the tools to succeed and then let her discover – poof – that she can't use any of them. Santana's right. In the end, we're wolves. I can read her German poetry, Judy can teach her science facts and you can play Mozart for her but in the end, it's a long, cold night and those woods for all of us."_

_Silence lingered once more before Sue's uncharacteristically tired voice answered. "Just leave me alone, Ulrik, okay? Just leave me alone."_

_The next day, Sue told me I didn't have to do my school work if I didn't want to then went driving by herself. I waited until she was gone, then I did the work, anyway._

*End Flashback*

* * *

But here, I wished for more than anything that Sue was here with me. I would even go as far as to wish Santana and Brittany was here. After all, the three of us were a team although San and I may have been at odds a lot; she truly was my best friend. She just had a hard life and wanted me with her but had trouble expressing that.

I turned the key in the lock, knowing what I'd find: a box stuffed with months' worth of envelopes and probably a slip to collect more from behind the desk. But when I opened the box, there were two lonely letters and some junk fliers.

Someone had been here. And only recently.

"Do you mind if we pass by Kurt's?" Rachel asked, climbing into the car and bringing in a rush of cold air with her. In the passenger seat, I recoiled. She hurriedly shut the door behind her and with big, apologetic eyes said, "Sorry about that. It got really cold, didn't it? Anyway, I don't want to, you know, actually go inside. Just drive by. Tina said that a wolf had been scratching around Kurt's house. So maybe we could pick up a trail near there?"

"Go for it," I said. Taking her hand from where it rested, I kissed her fingertips before gently guiding it back on the wheel.

Rachel's lips lifted slightly at my touch, but she didn't say anything as she pulled out of the lot. I watched her face, etched into an expression of deep concentration as her mouth pouted in a firm line. I waited patiently to see if she was ready to say what was on her she didn't, I settled down in my seat and got my translation of Rilke I'd bought to read while I waited for her.

"What are you reading?" Rachel asked, after a long time of silence.

I was fairly certain that pragmatic Rachel would not have heard of Rilke, plus I knew she was obsessed with Barbara Streisand and Broadway and too busy with music for something like poetry.

"Poetry," I replied.

Rachel sighed and gazed out at the dead white sky that seemed to press down on the road before us. "I don't get poetry. Like, I get that it is basically music without the music, just lyrics. But generally, I just don't get it." She seemed to realize her statement might have been offensive to me because she hurriedly added, "Maybe I'm reading the wrong stuff."

Chuckling quietly, I decided to throw her a bone. "You're probably just reading it wrong." I had, after all, seen Rachel's to-be-read pile: nonfiction, books about music, about artists and not about how things were described. "You have to listen to the pattern of the words. Your mind has to make its own soundtrack to go with the words, not just what the words are. Like your beloved music."

When she frowned, I paged through my book and pulled her into the passenger seat with me so that our hip bones are pressed together. Rachel glanced down at the page. "That's not even in English!"

"Some of them are," I said. I sighed, remembering. "Ulrik was using Rilke to teach me German. And now I'm going to use it to teach you poetry."

"Clearly a foreign language," Rachel stated.

"Clearly." I agreed. "Listen to this, okay?" When she nodded, I read out loud, "_Was sol lich mit meinem Munde? Mit meiner Nacht? Mit meinem Tag? Ich habe keine Geliebte, kein Haus, keine Stelle auf der ich lebe."_

Rachel's face portrayed her puzzlement_. _She chewed her lip in a cute, frustrated sort of way. I stayed silent to enjoy her adorableness. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she asked, "So what does it mean?"

"That's not the point. The point is howit sounds. Not just what it means." I struggled to find words to clearly explain to her what I meant.

What I wanted to do was to remind her of how she'd fallen in love with me as a wolf. Where no words were spoken, just her sense of understanding of what her mind and heart were saying to her. Like seeing beyond the obvious meaning of my wolf skin to what was inside. To whatever it was that had always made me _Quinn_.

"Read it again," Rachel requested softly; I obliged. She tapped her fingers against the console. "It sounds sad," she observed. "You're smiling! I must be right." She declared proudly.

I flipped to the English translation then started saying, "_What then would I do with my lips? With my night? With my day? I have no_—" I paused, my face wrinkling. "—Gah! I don't like this translation. I'm going to get my other one from the house tomorrow. But yeah, it's sad."

"Do I get a prize?"

"Maybe," I said. I pushed her back onto her seat and she began to drive back to her house. I slid my hand underneath one of hers, entwining our fingers. Without looking away from the road, she lifted our tangled fingers to her mouth. She kissed my index finger and then put it between her teeth, biting down softly. She glanced over at me, her eyes holding an unspoken challenge.

I was completely caught. I wanted to tell her to pull over right then because I _needed_ to kiss her. But then I saw a wolf. "Rach. Stop – stop the car!"

She jerked her head around, trying to see what I saw, but the wolf had already jumped the ditch on the side of the road and headed into the sparse woods.

"Rachel, _stop_," I said once more. "Finn."

She hit the brakes; the Mazda shimmied back and forth as she guided it to the shoulderof the road. I didn't wait for the car to stop.

Shoving open the door, I stumbled out. My old cheerleading injuries in my ankles cried out as I slammed onto the frozen ground. I scanned the woods in front of me. Clouds of sharp-smelling smog drifted through the trees, mingling with the heavy white clouds that pushed down from above; someone was burning leaves on the other side of the woods.

Through the smoke, I saw the large tan wolf hesitating in the woods ahead of me, unsure if he was being pursued. Cold air clawed at my skin, the wolf looked over his shoulder at me, brown eyes. But not Rachel's expressive, chocolate brown eyes, it was more a murky lighter brown.

Finn. It had to be. But then he was gone, just like that, plunging into the smoke. I jumped after him, taking the ditch by the side of the road in one leap and running over the cold, hard stubble of the dying winter woods.

As I leaped into the forest, I heard Finn crashing ahead. He was never a graceful guy according to what I heard from Rachel but he was more interested in escape than stealth at this point. I could smell the stink of fear as he bolted ahead of me.

The wood smoke was heavier here, and it was hard to tell where the smoke ended and the sky began as it was snared in the bare branches overhead. Finn was half-invisible in front of me, faster and nimbler than me on his four legs, and impervious to the cold. My fingers, half-numb, stabbed with pain, and cold pinched the skin of my neck and twisted my gut. I was losing sight of the wolf ahead of me; the one inside me seemed closer all of a sudden.

"Quinn!" Rachel shouted. She grabbed the back of my shirt pulling me to a stop, and threw her coat around me.

I was coughing, gasping for air and trying to swallow the wolf rising up in me. Wrapping her arms around me as I shuddered, she said, "What were you thinking? What were you –" She didn't finish. She pulled me back through the woods, both of us stumbling as my knees buckled.

I slowed, especially when we got to the ditch, but Rachel didn't falter. She hooked my elbow to haul me up to the Mazda. Again, the amount of strength she possesses amazed me, but the impending shift led my thoughts to other more important tasks such as: getting warm.

Inside, I buried my cold face into the hot skin of her neck and let her wrap her tiny arms around me as I shook uncontrollably. I was acutely aware of the tips of my fingers, of each little pinprick of pain throbbing individually.

"What were you doing?" Rachel demanded, squeezing me hard enough to force the breath out of me. "Quinn, you can't do that! It's freezing out there! You can't just go chasing Finn around and accidently shift! Do you know what that would do to me? What did you think you were going to do anyway?"

"I don't know," I said into her neck, balling my hands into fists between us to get them warm. I didn't know. I just knew that Finn was an unknown, and that I personally didn't know what kind of person he was. What sort of a wolf he was. I only knew him from what my Rachel had told me. And based from that, it worried me a little. "I don't know," I repeated.

"Quinn, it's not worth it. He's not worth it," Rachel stated. She pressed her face hard against my head. "What if you had changed?" Her fingers were tight on the sleeves of my shirt, and now her voice was breathy. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I answered back truthfully. I sat down; finally warm enough to stop shivering. I pressed my hands against the heating vents. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for causing you so much worry and pain. I'm sorry for my uncertain future. I'm sorry about it all, Rach. I want so bad to give you the future you so deserve."

She looked at me and all I saw in her eyes were concern and love. She opened her lips and teasingly said, "Honey, you're starting to sound like me." We laugh and her eyes twinkle before we both became serious again. She said "Quinn, I know."

For a long moment, there wasn't any sound but the uneven rumbling of the idling engine. Then Rachel spoke, "Noah talked to me today. He's Finn's best friend." She paused and in a grave tone, continued, "He said he'd talked to him."

I didn't say anything, just curled my fingers tighter over the vents as if I could physically grab the heat.

"But you can't just go running after him. It's getting too cold, and it's not worth the risk. Promise me you won't do anything like that again?" I dropped my eyes. I couldn't look at her when she sounded like she did now.

I asked. "What about Noah? Tell me what he said."

Rachel sighed. "I don't know. He knows Finn's alive. He thinks the wolves have something to do with it. He thinks I know something. What should we do?"

I pressed my forehead against my hands. "I don't know. I wish Sue was here." I thought about the two lonely envelopes in the post office box and the wolf in the woods and my still-tingling fingertips.

Maybe Sue _was _here. Hope hurt more than the cold. And just maybe, maybe it wasn't Finn I should've been looking for.

* * *

**I don't know. Does that count as a slightly less angsty chapter? I mean with the last little bit of hope right there at the end?**


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